Jenny: First Spear

Hands on hips, the Guttersnipe stood over Domitia in silence. She remembered her first kill. It had been up in high, boulder country where the wind never ceased and the land lay all about like a misty green sea. They had come unexpectedly upon a band of North Saxons of a hostile disposition, and as Artos had only been taking her out sight-seeing, it had been only the two of them, and she had killed her man. She remembered the numb throbbing of disbelief pulsing in her belly, of the wanting to be sick and the wanting to make things better without disgracing herself, and then Artos' voice overhead.

"Put your head between your knees, 'Snippet. It will be over in a moment..."

She had put her head between her knees, feeling like a coward, but unable to look back into the vacant eyes of the dead man. Artos had not cared - she had cared for Artos' sake - but had knelt by and waited until her brain was less ill, and he had reminded her in his blunt soldier's way to clean her knife. She had, and he had taken her hand as though she were still a child, and things had been better.

Odd, to think that was barely months ago...

"Just hold your head so and breathe deeply," she told Domitia. "It will pass in a moment." Then, still more gently, "Yes, I did kill three men."