Chapter 1-Esacpe

The charge had gone to plan at first. The German soldiers had run in all directions, dropping everything, fleeing from the thought of dying in such a horrible, un-heroic way. It had been easy to eliminate them, only a few had been smart enough to draw guns. The charge seemed to be a success.

For a short while, at least.

What Jamie didn't know, what no-one knew, was that these German soldiers had machine guns. Lots of machine guns. The moment the German soldiers made it to the forest, made it to the weapons, Jamie's men started to drop like flies, some dying quickly and quietly while others had time to cry out in pain and anguish. He never felt as solely responsible for something as he did at that very moment. And, watching all those men die around him, deaths he knew he was responsible for, he never wanted to cry so much.

How he himself survived the guns was a miracle he didn't understand. But the problem was; now he was in the woods, surrounded by German soldiers.

At that point, he could not accept his mistake. It sounded arrogate and stupid, but it was not because he thought he should be constantly right. It was because many had died because of this mistake. So he ran, thinking maybe he could escape them. Pushing Topthorn into a gallop to escape the Germans that surround him. He ran out of the woods, but he was surrounded once again. He trotted in a circle to avoid being pulled off of his faithful horse's back.

A man came striding towards him. He was a German soldier, he could tell from the uniform. The man had authority, judging from the decorations on his jacket and his powerful stride. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, as though he prepared to draw it at any moment. His hair was hidden under a strange, pointed grey cap and his face wore a deep scowl.

"What?! You think a garrison on open ground would go undefended?!" he shouted shrilly in English with a thick German accent, obviously furious. "Look at yourself! Who do you think you are?!"

He looked out at the field he and countless others had charged over just moments before. The bodies of both men and horses alike where littered across the ground, pools of blood had gathered around them. And he felt cold. So very cold. And it was his fault. These men had charged into death under his orders. Yet he had survived. He threw his sword into the ground and he was about to dismount, when a movement across the meadow caught his attention.

The wall of long grass -which he and his troops had charged from just moments before- was disturbed, and a lone rider charged through. It wasn't one of his soldiers, for they weren't wearing a uniform. No. From what he could see (which, at this distance, was not a lot), the rider was wearing a white shirt with black trousers. There was a strange piece of black of fabric flying from the rider's hips as he lent over the horse's neck. The horse was small, smaller than any horse of any soldier under his command and white. Again, unlike any of his soldiers.

As the rider neared, splashing trough the water near the tall grass, he realised something. Something shocking. The rider was mounted incorrectly. The rider sat astride the horse, one leg on each side of the saddle as though they were a man. Which was incorrect.

For the rider was a woman.

She let out a cry, like the one Jamie partook in just minutes before, just more shrill and high. The German soldiers and the English riders, who had managed to stay on their horses at the edge of the forest, looked to her, now aware of her presence.

The closer she came, the fiercer she seemed. Her face was creased with a scowl and her brown hair flew wildly around her face, obstructing her features from view. Her skirt (which was the fabric around her hips) floated out behind her like a dark cape. The horse itself was frightening. Its neck was stretched out in front of it, its teeth were bared and its ears laid back against its skull. Jamie could see the (frightening) large whites of its eyes.

She was only moments away on his left when he, along with all the other soldiers from both sides, realised that she wasn't going to stop.

Germans jumped away as she ran straight into the thick of them. It was as she guided the horse in a circle, that Jamie realised what she was doing. The Germans had jumped away from her, and was now ether lying on the ground or far from the young English soldier that they had been trying to pull off the tall chestnut horse he was atop off, leaving the lad a clear path away from the Germans and straight onto the vast field they had charged from.

"Courir! Courir!" she screamed to the young man, waving franticly to the field she came from. Jamie did not know any French, but he had a feeling, judging by the situation they were in, meant something along the lines of 'run' or 'flee'. The young trooper stared at her in shock a moment, before seeming snapping back to reality and pushing his horse forward into a gallop with a huge kick and a loud shout. The horse's large strides swallowed up the ground quickly, running across the field with it tail streaming out behind it.

Her eyes suddenly shot up and locked with Jamie's. He noticed the bright, hazel brown of her eyes before it all became a blur of colour as she shot towards him. He was stunned for a moment as she realised what she was doing. She was going to free him as well. One of the braver German soldiers didn't jump out of the way of the little horse, probably thinking that it would grind to a halt. Instead, he was lost under the equine's hooves with a large, painful cry that Jaime tried extremely hard to ignore. He also quickly looked from the fresh red that quickly stained the grass.

"Aller! Courir!" Her cries where barely heard of the shouts of the German soldiers running forward to try stop her, but she was already speeding to save the next English soldier.

He wanted to stay and help her free some of his soldiers, but he had no weapons, and his rapier had been pulled out of the ground and was lost somewhere in the confusion the woman was causing. So instead, he dug his heals into Topthorn's sides and started across the meadow.

The wind rushed past Jamie's ears as Topthorn seemed to go incredibly faster than he had in the charge, as though he understood the importance of speed in this situation. As the large black horse hurtled over body after body of their fallen comrades, Jamie realised how incredibly unfair this all was. He had ordered these men to their deaths, their pointless deaths, yet he had lived. He was running free. It was as he entered the tall grass he, seeing the easily distinguished track from the trooper who had fled before him he realised he was not safe yet.

He caught up with the lad on the chestnut quickly, their eyes contact connecting for moment before silently deciding to run on together. The truth was; he was sorry for the young man. His messy blonde hair and pink, childish cheeks portrayed his youth. This poor boy was probably happily working on a farm or pushing a merchandise cart before the war began, and now he was here. Experiencing what could only be described as hell.

Fear shot through Jamie as he heard the sound of approaching hoof beats. They were hard to hear over his own horse's footfalls, but he heard them none the less. He turned his head, afraid that some of the Germans had pursued them. Instead, he was welcomed by the sight of another young English soldier. And then another. And another. There were three English troops coming up to join them now. Jamie turned his head back forward so they could not see his smile. This was no time to smile. Men had just died. Lots of men.

'But' Jamie thought to himself 'at least these lads lived'.

A blur of white and black passed him, making him jump slightly. At a second glace, he saw that it was the woman who had freed them. She was now in front of all of them, leaning over her small horse's (Jamie didn't think it was quite small enough to be a pony, but it was cutting it extremely close) neck, rocking with its movement to encourage it faster. When she was a few feet in front of them; she relaxed slightly but remained leant over her horse's neck.

Jamie could vaguely see another horse gaining on him. He turned his head, expecting to see one of the other riders, but was greeted by a sad sight.

It was a horse without a rider. Jamie stared a moment, trying place his finger on the familiarity of the horse. The following recognition made his heart break. A fiery red bay with four, perfectly even white socks and a twinkle shaped star on his forehead. He knew this horse well. It was James' horse.

His friend had been either killed or taken by the Germans. Either way, he was gone. Dead or to die very soon. Jamie couldn't decide what was better; dying or being taken captive.

James' horse- Joey, he was called- ran past him and Topthorn, eager to be the leader of the herd. He came up beside the woman, and Jamie saw her do a small double take. She then leant back so she was sitting in the saddle and Jamie saw her gather her reins in one hand before leaning over and grabbing Joey's reins. She sat up straight again, pulling the bay slightly closer to her.

She ran forward for a few more moments before suddenly taking a sharp left towards more woodlands, taking Joey with her. Topthorn, going back on his herd animal instincts, followed. Jamie thought of leading him away from the woman, going back to their camp maybe. But that could be dangerous for the people who were still there is the Germans were, in fact, pursuing them. So, since she seemed to know what she was doing, he followed the mysterious woman.

The sound of hoof beats morphed quickly into water splashes as the small group entered a stream that ran through woods. Jamie was comforted to know that the other Englishmen had followed the woman as well.

He didn't know how long they ran. They ran through the woods, changing course every once and a while when the stream forked. One thing he did notice was that they stayed in the stream, never leaving the water. He guessed it was to conceal their tracks in case the Germans decided to follow them. I felt like hours before they finally stopped. The stream had widened into a pond and they were once again in a clearing.

The woman was hunched over in her saddle and breathing heavily. She dropped the white horse's reins and stroked it neck as it heaved for air. Then she, surprisingly, swung her leg over the horse's neck and then carefully manoeuvred herself onto Joey's saddle (once again sitting astride as though she was a man). She reached over and looped her horse's reins around the cheek strap on the bridle and throat lash a few times before she let go of the little horse altogether.

Jamie was shocked. He trusted Topthorn, after all he was his horse. But not quite enough to leave him unattended and expect him to stay where he was. And yet she was gladly letting go of this misbehaving horse (it had refused to slow slightly at the beginning of the ride so the other riders could keep up and had tried to bite Joey at least five times) and expect it to be obedient.

The little horse dropped its head to drink and the woman let Joey do the same. It was only then Jamie realised how much Topthorn was heaving and the amount of sweat covering his coat. He allowed him to drop his head and drink as well. The four younger men followed.

After a few minutes of silence the mysterious lady pulled Joey's head back up and nudged him into a trot, setting off across the pond. She whistled and the little white horse looked up and stared for a moments before trotting after its Mistress.

Jamie stood there, not exactly sure what to do. He did not know this woman. He should not trust her. Yet she had freed them (for no apparent reason, mind you). And if he were to leave her, he would have nowhere to go (their path had been too confusing and winding to get back to camp). This was unfamiliar land, so if he were to leave her company, he would no doubt get lost. So he gently pushed Topthorn forward to follow her. He was comforted when he heard the younger men follow as well. Once again, the small group where galloping through the water, re-entering the woods.

*00*

All of the French in this will be translated through Google translate. So some of the French may be really, really wrong.

If there are any spelling or grammar errors (or plot hole or parts that don't make sense), please do inform me.

Anycow, this story will based off event in both the movies and the books. Because they are both amazing.