Myrna & Myhor

Large drops of water ran from the metal rim of Myrna’s helmet onto her face. She scrambled up the hill, the leather soles of her boots slipping on the wet rocks. Nearing the top, she crouched low, and slowly peered over at the valley below. For a brief second lightning lit the sky, the sheets of rain and the swarming field. Myrna scanned for a new position of cover and spotted movement near her. She ducked below the cover of the hill and, lying on her back, positioned an arrow in her bow, prepared to fire. The thunder roared loudly muffling what she thought was her name. She lay still and listened.
“Myrna” a loud man bellowed a second time.
She stood into a crouch and saw the familiar shinning armor of her comrades fifteen yards to the left. One of the men was carrying the weight of the other. Running to them, Myrna looked at neither of the men’s faces. She hurriedly grabbed the wounded and lowered him to the ground behind the hill crest. The other man turned back to the valley of fighting soldiers and disappeared into the dark storm.
Myrna worked carefully but with amazing efficiency. She removed her blade from the sheath tied just below her left knee. Holding the base of the arrow in her patient’s thorax steady, she sliced off the rest of the shaft. She also cut the straps to his breast plate and slid it off the now three inch section of cut arrow. She spoke softly to her patient to keep him in touch with her. “You fought well, you will be blessed when you heal”.
She retrieved the sheepskin pouch from under the protection of her forearm bracer. She poured revit powder generously over the entrance of the arrow. The man winced and coughed as the powder burned into his wound. She checked him quickly to find a deep gash in his upper left thigh. Removing a strip of pre-cut woven material from her belt she created a tourniquet above the laceration and doused it in the powder as well. The patient did not react this time as the potent powder’s effects would have kept him from feeling the second application.
Myrna removed as much armor as possible from the man to ensure there were no other fatal wounds but also to lighten the load. She looked at his face. He was familiar to her with deeply creased skin and broad features. She did not know his name.
“We must move my brave brother, help me now” Myrna spoke sternly placing his arm around her neck and heaving him to his feet. The man cooperated as well as his muscles would allow, weakened from blood loss and unsteady from drug effects. They stumbled and slipped down the hill to the tall protective trees that surrounded the town. Two young boys came into view just as they reached the trees and took the man, rushing him to cots set up just beyond the wall for further treatment.
As Myrna returned to her hilltop perch she watched the trumpeter stand up at the top of the hill. He was the statue of simplicity, no weapon, no armor, only his horn. The rain and wind pelted his long flowing hair and his soft white face. He blew out the sounds of retreat for the falling soldiers. Myrna prepared her weapons ducking in the cover of a small bush. She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. It was not easy to see the details of the figures moving on the field.
The horn player finished his call and retreated to the trees. She saw the shimmering and small movements in the tree line surrounding the bottom of the hill. The archers, made up of lightly armored woman and children over the age of eight, were preparing to fire on enemies following the retreating men.
Myrna heard the clanging armor first and then saw the fleeing men reaching her position and running down to the trees. Her arrow ready, she anticipated with furvor. The first one came within ten meters of her before her arrow pierced his neck. At first, the dark leather clad enemies were littered lightly within her metal wearing comrades. She was cautious and hit all that she saw with few wasted arrows, aiming for the head and neck. Myrna was a practiced and precise shot.
As the number of the enemy grew thicker Myrna’s fingers, elbows and shoulders worked faster and the pounding of her heart intensified. The burning sensation in her chest began to grow and she knew her brother was close to her.
Myhor, was welding both sword and axe and attempting retreat when he came into view of Myrna’s position. She pierced his opponents through the eye with one arrow, allowing Myhor to run to the top of the hill. Myhor looked over at her hiding spot behind the bush, met Myrna’s eyes, thrust his sword high in the air “FIRE!” Three hundred arrows flew from the tree line over the hill crest.
Myhor and Myrna then ran the two hundred yards from hill top to tree line without looking back. Two more rounds of arrows were fired at the pursuers. Myhor rotated his axe in a circular motion in the air and the trumpet blared for all to get into the village walls.
Within four minutes all of the village people were inside the walls and the doors were bolted. These were meager defenses and a last resort. The village would not have much time against such a vast and brutal force as their dark foes. The activity of the townspeople was laborious and excited. Wounded soldiers were being moved hurriedly away from the wall. Those who could stand were given a weapon. Large items, such as hand carts, were piled in front of the towns many doors. Objects that could be used for shielding or a hiding place were positioned.
Myrna poised herself at a ten centimeter hole in the wall to release her arrows through. Myhor took her hand and pulled at her to keep moving.
“You must come with me now to the caves” he told Myrna.
When she protested he explained “you will not fight anymore tonight, there is another task for you”.
They hastened to the caves where the young children and the elders had been placed in hiding.
“But I am gifted at battle and it is my duty to fight” she continued flatly as she dragged her feet behind him.
Myhor turned and their deep green, twin eyes locked. Myrna looked at her brother’s face and soft brown hair that curled into his face under his helmet. His innocent features betrayed his inspirational competence.
“Myrna, you are gifted at all that you undertake” his placid voice sang to her. “a brave soldier with healing hands and knowing heart. You will prevail and endure. This is why you must listen and do what I ask.”
She felt that his comprehension was much more than her’s and he knew what path must be followed. She took a deep breath and acquiesced to his words. “What do you ask of me?”
The screaming of the townspeople and the clanging of metal intensified as the enemy advanced on the walls.
“You must take the tunnels and live on to rebuild our people, for we will meet our end tonight.” Myhor answered.
Fear struck her although she tried to keep her face hard. Myhor pulled her into the cave and called out for Menatole. A frail, old man responded “we are here”.
The young boy with the old man excitedly jumped up at seeing Myrna. His eyes were alight. Myrna nodded at the boy.
“Be brave Myrna” Myhor whispered in her ear “remove your armor now, you can not carry it all”.
Myrna’s eyes were stinging and hot. She removed her helmet and let her long brown hair, drenched with sweat, flop down her back. She took off all of her soaked metal battle wear and was left only with her woven and sheepskin clothing and thin leather boots. She placed her short bow and arrows back in there place over her right shoulder.
The old man had fitted a small knapsack around Menatole shoulders. Creed, the fierce and instinctual dog that protected Menatole at all times also carried a flat leather pouch on his back. Myhor began to load Myrna’s back and belt with supplies. He ensured she carried plenty of revit powder.
Myrna felt a haze of disbelief fall on her. “You are sending me away from the passing of my twin brother? No! You must journey with the boy.”
“There is no time to rethink the plan Myrna, you must follow what I ask. You already know this in you heart” her confident brother replied.
She did know that he was right and felt his inspiration but this did not stop the despair or the tears. She had never been parted from him and the thought overwhelmed her.
The old man held up a pouch with a leather shoulder strap the size of a meal plate. Myhor took it from him and held it out to Myrna. “These are the records of those before us, they gave us this land and their knowledge must be guarded.”
She shook her head in acknowledgment and placed the strap over her head. Myhor then removed the green, jade stone around his neck and placed it around her’s. This pendant was sign of unity to their people and was always kept in the possession of the leading family. It was a decorative three inch cylinder that was hollow in the middle. The ancestors who pioneered their homeland brought it thousands of miles, across the seas, from foreign peoples. It was said that the powder was kept in the pendant when it was carried across the sea. Now so many different developments and uses had been found for the special substance that the pendant carried small leaves of inscriptions about revit, it properties and secrets.
The noises outside the cave had increased and the deep voices of foreign tongues echoed in the air. All search for hiding, protection or resolution as their eyes danced with fear.
Myhor moved the traveling party further into the caves. Myrna followed as if lost or entranced. After only a few moments he stopped and asked for help in moving a large boulder. The twins heaved it to the side and revealed a dark and treacherous tunnel. Creed let out a whine but Menatole was glad to climb into the small opening and motioned for his dog to follow.
Myhor took Myrna’s face in his armor clad hands and with severe eyes said “This is your quest, you have been deemed worthy of fulfilling it. Protect the child and the words of our family”. He swallowed hard “I will meet you in the heavens sooner than you think”.
“How will I know my place when I am alone?” Myrna whimpered.
“Menatole will guide you” he answered.
She peered at the child’s passionate green eyes shining from the tunnel. He smiled at her, sending a wave of calm through her. She kissed her brother’s face many times. She took the lighted torch from the wall and climbed into the tunnel. Myhor blew her a kiss and they both heaved on the boulder from opposite sides until it rolled back into place, closing the tunnel. Although, he was still just feet away, Myrna knew that the cord between her and the other half she had known since birth had just been severed.