Her Father's Sword

"Wait, Vaarion." Andswaru rode forward and took Witimanu's reins to stop the girl from riding off. "Listen-"
"Hold on." Vaarion held up a hand. "Do you hear that?"
Andswaru shut up and tilted his head to listen. There was a sound coming nearer - hooves, two sets of hooves coming closer.
Vaarion was already gliding off her saddle and took a few steps towards the two horses coming running uphill towards them. She recognised the two draught horses at once.
"Andswaru! It's Apple and Pear! What are they doing here?"
The girl ran towards the horses, catching the reins of the stallion.
She looked over to Andswaru, who was running after the mare already. "Quick - catch her before she bolts off again!"
The stallion whinnied and danced, but the daughter of the horse-trader held her grip firmly and unrelentingly, willing him to calm down.
"Shh, shh, dear, what happened to you? What are you doing here - and all sweaty with fear, too?"
Patting the stallion's flank carefully, she waited for Andswaru to calm down Pear, the mare. The horse was shivering and whinnying, clearly disturbed.
"What happened to you, dear?"
"Maybe they went to find you?" Andswaru had finally wrestled the mare to a stop by maneouvering his own horse in front of her, and was walking back with Pear in tow.
"No, look, they have broken their reins - something must have spooked them! Something..."
She looked at Andswaru wide-eyed.
"Something's wrong! We need to go back!"
"Vaarion, wait-" The man reached out for her but she already had jumped on Witimanu's back and was riding downhill at full tilt.

Navigating down the steep path that wound along the gully was no easy feat even slowly; but now Vaarion paid it nearly no heed as she raced towards the road and the caravan. She could hear Andswaru wrestling the three horses behind her, but she did not care - all she worried about was in front of her.
But when she came down the hill, she knew she was already too late.
The whinnying of the pack horses echoed across the river. Where the road widened towards the ford they had been aiming for, the caravan had been stopped, the wagon standing at an angle to the shore with its cloth plane ripped open. Vaarion could see their belongings strewn about in the mud, crates and luggage carelessly ripped open in a search for food and valuables.
The horses themselves were standing in the water, rearing and fighting against the men pulling on their reins. There were more men about, collecting the debris. There was a dark stain on the sand where a body lay lifelessly, the water staining red where it lapped over it.
Vaarion could not stay silent.
"Father - Father!"
But it was not her father who lay there in the sand - Vaarion recognised the green coat as one of the guardsmen's. The other guards were nowhere to be seen.
Then she saw her father. He was standing knee-deep in the water, fighting two of the men on horses. Even standing they would have surpassed him by a head, their hair long and tangled, their faces dirty and squinting. Vaarion had not seen men like this before. It looked like they were all muscle, animalistic and evil.
Her father did not stand a chance. Even as he was swinging his broadsword against the first, the other man caught him from behind, bringing him down splashing into the shallow water. The sword fell from his hands as he stumbled, twisting in the grip of the brute.
A scream escaped her. "Father!"
She brought Witimanu around, galloping with full force towards the men.
Just as she did so, the sound of a horn echoed across the ford.
One of the men shouted something, pointing at her and mounting his horse. The others turned, alerted by the sound of hoofbeats. A bellowed command later, they turned as one, driving the horses along the river.
Vaarion reached the ford to see them dragging her father along, pulling him next to the horse by his hair. There was blood on his face, but he was still struggling, fighting faintly against the grip of the giant.
Bending down as low as she could from Witimanu's back, she picked up the sword from the ground as she rode by. She could not think of anything but her father, riding blindly towards them.
Something hit her in the side. She felt the impact like a punch to her chest, not realising at once what had happened. Only when the pain set in she looked down and saw the bolt sticking out of her tunic.
The last things she remembered before she slumped over the horse's neck were the laughter of the man lowering the crossbow and the eyes of her father, widened in fear and realisation as he recognised her.
Then everything went black.