Chapter Text
“Eat.”
Zizka put a bowl of gruel outside the tent. There were three more bowls there, but none of them had been touched. A fly was walking on one of them.
“Your death won’t change a thing, lass.”
He sighed and looked at a bite mark on his palm, still bleeding a little. Now he had a problem holding a mace. He waited for a moment — still no response from the girl. Maybe she was already dead. She had drunk a lot of water, trying to drown herself in a river, then almost vomited up all her insides when they dragged her out. But she still had enough strength to almost bite off his thumb.
Zizka pulled the curtain of the tent to see if she was still alive. She was lying there, motionless, still the same way they had left her. But he saw her body moving a little. She was breathing.
“We’re going to gut Sigismund’s soldiers tomorrow,” Zizka said to the silence. “If your anger is bigger than your despair, you will eat and go with us.”
The girl didn’t answer.
He closed the curtain and went back to his men, laughing and drinking by the fire. Captain Jan Zizka knew that if someone wanted to die, they would do it. He knew it from his own experience, because he'd been chasing death for almost two decades now. Just all his attempts to kill himself had been hopeless till this day.
Katherine followed these bandits not because she wanted to. She just had nowhere else to go.
When she was told to move, she moved. Ate in silence and observed her newfound company from a distance. The other girl in the camp, Klara, tried to talk to her, but Katherine remained silent. She only told them her name, but that was it.
She just existed.
Shell of a human. Shell of a wife. Shell of a mother.
The only thing that made her pay attention was Captain Zizka’s orders on raiding soldier troops. It happened every four or five days, and Katherine followed the bandits just to see how they dealt with King Sigismund’s men. She never tried to intervene or act, just watched from afar how Zizka’s men attacked crimson-bannered soldiers and never left anyone alive.
When she saw these armed men cry in terror, drown in their own blood and try to flee, her pain became more bearable. And anger started taking away that space.
And one day, when Zizka and his right hand, Dry Devil, were discussing a plan that included getting into a small Sigismund army camp and getting intel from their lieutenant, Katherine was listening. Zizka needed to lure that lieutenant out of the camp, but none of his or Dry Devil’s men could get inside without being caught.
And suddenly, for everyone and for herself, Katherine volunteered.
“And I thought she’s mute.” Dry Devil scoffed, then gave her a deprecating stare. “With this job, you won’t be able to just stand and watch, woman.”
Katherine met his stare and didn’t blink. “They won’t suspect a terrified village girl. I can play the part.”
Zizka studied her for a long moment. He had seen this fire in her eyes before, when she saw him gutting soldiers—he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that kind of fire. “You’re sure about this?”
“Let me do this.” Katherine nodded. The anger inside her was like an itch she couldn’t help with.
Dry Devil exhaled. “If she gets caught, I’m fucking out, Zizka.”
Zizka ignored him and turned to Katherine. “Fine. Here’s what you’ll do…”
***
That night, wrapped in a ragged cloak, her face streaked with dirt and tears, Katherine approached the edge of the military camp. Two guards spotted her immediately, weapons at the ready.
“Who goes there?” one of them barked.
Katherine fell to her knees, her voice trembling in terror and despair. “Please… bandits killed my husband…” She choked back a sob. “I... I have nowhere else to go...”
“Go to the village, woman, it’s not a church here.”
“But I heard the bandits are planning to torch the village!”
The men exchanged looks. One lowered his sword and told the other, “Bring her to the captain. He’ll know what to do with her.”
As they led her into the camp, Katherine kept her head down. Now she was trembling in fear, but it was real. She had lost everything because of men like these. The smell, the sounds, the laughter—she remembered everything, but now tried to remain calm. She tried to hide her shaking hands, stumbled on her feet, but all this just made her act look real.
The lieutenant of Sigismund’s army didn't expect his soldiers to drag a dirty woman into his tent late at night.
“What the hell?” he shouted at his men, ignoring Katherine. “We don't need beggars here!”
“Please, sir, don't send me away!” Katherine looked up, her eyes filled with tears. “Bandits... bandits attacked my house and killed my husband! I am hunter Vashek’s wife, don’t you remember him?”
She was crying, sobbing, trying to catch her breath, but at the same time was trying to lure the lieutenant and his men into the trap. Zizka and his gang were at the hunter’s house. Vashek and his real family were tied up and hidden in the shed.
The lieutenant seemed to recognize the name of the local hunter. His brows furrowed.
“He brought you game every time you asked, because he supports our rightful King Sigismund!” Katherine pushed the act as much as she could. “Those bandits… They're still in my house. I was able to escape, but you can still find them there! They were talking about raiding a village, oh God. If they find out that I ran away, they will disappear!”
The lieutenant’s scowl softened; his initial irritation faded. He sighed, rubbing his chin. “Vashek, you say? Hmph. I remember the man. If you're his wife, you should’ve come here sooner.”
He leaned forward, his tone shifting. “But you’re in luck, woman. You’ve come to the right people.”
Katherine sniffled, lowering her gaze. “Please, sir… you have to hurry. There were five—no, six of them. Armed, drunk, laughing about their next attack. If you don’t move now, they’ll be gone before sunrise.”
The lieutenant stood, already making up his mind.
“Alright. You stay here.” He turned to the guards. “Get her some food,” he ordered one of the soldiers. “The rest of you, gear up! We’re going hunting.”
Katherine’s heart pounded. She had done it. Now all she had to do was hope that Zizka and his men would do their part.
When the officer and his soldiers mounted up and rode into the night, Katherine slipped away from the camp as soon as she got a chance. She couldn't bear to stay around these armed men any longer.
Katherine got to the hunter’s house by sunrise. It was a quiet morning, only soldiers’ bodies were lying on the ground. Zizka had taken care of them. Some of the outlaws she’d now sided with were robbing those soldiers. They didn't even look at her.
Then she heard a scream.
She went inside the hut and saw Dry Devil in the middle of torturing Sigismund’s lieutenant. Zizka stood beside him.
“I am asking for the last time,” Zizka’s voice was calm, “When and where exactly will your supply of arms arrive? I need the road location. And exact time.”
The man was beaten up and reeked of fear. He was hardly withstanding the torture. He coughed, spitting blood onto the wooden floor. His breath came in ragged gasps. “P-please… I told you what I know…”
Devil twisted the dagger deeper into the man’s thigh, making him scream again. “No, you didn’t.”
Katherine watched and didn’t blink. The itch inside her was satisfied.
Zizka crouched beside the man, speaking low, “Listen to me. You think this is bad? Hynek is just getting started. If you make him keep going, you’ll be begging for death before the sun is fully up.”
He gestured toward Katherine.
“That woman out there? Her family was murdered by men like you. You want to find out what she is capable of?”
The lieutenant’s swollen eyes flickered to Katherine, and she saw the fear there. He was breaking.
“Alright, alright!” he gasped. “The shipment… it’s coming through the old Roman road, near the monastery… two nights from now, at dusk.” He coughed again, struggling for breath. “Please… no more.”
Dry Devil smirked, pulling the dagger free. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Zizka didn’t say anything at first, then nodded and looked down on Sigismund’s lieutenant. “You're coming with us, sir . Someone will pay us a ransom for your noble head.”
“Yes, they will!” the lieutenant shouted and let out a sigh of relief.
Katherine didn’t understand.
“What do you mean, coming with us ?!” Katherine shouted at the men, who were already leaving.
Devil grinned. Zizka looked at her, surprised.
“Are you going to let him live?!”
“Yes, I am.” Zizka didn’t expect a woman to shout at him. The rage inside her was almost palpable. “He’s a noble, unfortunately. We will get a lot of money if we keep him alive. That’s how we nobles do business. Right, Hynek?”
“Nobles, my arse,” Dry Devil’s laughter was like a stone sharpening on the wall, “But he’s right. Be a smart woman, Katherine, don’t overreact.”
Katherine’s hands clenched into fists. Her heart pounded in her ears as she stared at Hynek.
“ Overreact? ” she hissed. “You think this is overreacting?” She pointed at the man, still bound and bloodied. “How many homes has he burned? How many families has he destroyed?”
The expression on Zizka’s face hardened. “We need the money.”
“I don’t.” Katherine stepped closer, her voice shaking with rage. “I need justice.”
The lieutenant, dismissing the danger, chuckled weakly, “Listen to your leader, wench. You’re not a killer.”
Katherine’s blood turned to ice.
Not a killer.
Not yet.
Her fingers twitched toward the dagger at her belt. The same dagger Zizka had given her with one condition—that she would not use it on herself. But now she could bring justice with it.
Zizka watched her, his expression unreadable. He waited.
Katherine lunged forward and slashed the lieutenant’s neck. Everything happened so fast that no one was quick enough to react, including herself.
“Bloody hell, woman!” Devil leapt back, staring wide-eyed as the man gurgled, clutching his throat. Blood poured between his fingers, staining the floor deep red. He fell to his knees, gasping like a fish out of water.
Zizka’s expression didn’t change. He only watched as the nobleman collapsed face-first into his own blood, twitching once before going still. Katherine stood over the body, shaking, still clutching the dagger.
“You just threw away a fortune,” Zizka let out a tired sigh.
Katherine wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand.
Dry Devil swore, kicking a helmet across the ground. “Fucking woman! Zizka, throw her out right now or I will fucking kill her myself!”
Zizka stepped between Katherine and Devil. He gave him a long stare, then turned to Katherine and asked, “Do you feel better?”
She met his gaze. “No.”
“Good.” He nodded. Then, after a moment, he sighed and pushed Devil toward the door. “Well, the bastard’s dead. No changing that now. Mount up—we have a shipment to intercept.”
Dry Devil shot Katherine a murderous glare before storming off.
Katherine looked down at the lieutenant’s body one last time. She had her revenge.
So why didn’t she feel better?
***
They set up a camp near the place of interception. Katherine shared a tent with Klara.
“I would do the same,” Klara said while helping Katherine set up the tent. “That bastard deserved it. But not everyone thinks the same as me. Most of these guys just want money, and you took it away from them. Be careful.”
Katherine nodded, because she had already heard the spreading rumors of her killing the noble hostage. Men didn’t try to lower their voices or their stares. Dry Devil was the loudest of them all.
He sat by the fire, sharpening his dagger with slow, deliberate strokes, his voice carrying through the camp.
“She’s got a temper, that one,” he sneered. “We should’ve let her kill herself. But no, Zizka had to save her, Zizka had to play a fucking knight!”
A few of the men chuckled, while others simply listened, exchanging looks. Katherine clenched her jaw, focusing on tying down the last corner of the tent. She had expected this.
Klara placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let them get to you.”
Katherine exhaled sharply. “I don’t care what they think.”
Klara gave her a knowing look. “Maybe. But Hynek does.” She lowered her voice. “And men like him? They don’t just let things go.”
Katherine already knew that. The Devil was dangerous, and the only thing that kept him from strangling her was Zizka. The captain hadn’t said much after what happened, but Katherine had caught him watching her from across the camp, calm as always. She didn’t know if that was good or bad.
Later that night, the men started drinking. Klara went somewhere with her boy, and Katherine was left alone in the tent.
“Cześć, piękna,” a drunk guy named Adder from Devil’s pack stood before her tent. “Uwielbiam kobiety takie jak ty: wściekłe, piękne, niebezpieczne!”
Katherine didn’t understand a word. But she understood his intention.
“Get lost,” she said and closed the curtain of the tent.
“Ale kocham cię! Hynek może o tobie gadać gówno, ale ja cię docenię, kochanie,” Adder started crawling inside. “Zabiję każdego, kogo zechcesz. Mogę nawet zabić Hynka, chcesz? Zrobię wszystko za pocałunek…”
“Get out!” Katherine kicked his drunk ass out of the tent.
Adder started laughing, and his words became even more gibberish. He started crawling inside again.
Katherine’s heart grew cold, her patience snapped. She grabbed the dagger from her belt and pressed the tip against Adder’s throat.
“I said get out,” she growled.
The drunken idiot blinked, finally realizing the situation. He chuckled nervously, raising his hands. “Dobrze, dobrze… spokojnie, piękna…”
But Katherine wasn’t in the mood for games. She pushed him back with the dagger, drawing a thin line of blood on his neck. His drunken grin faltered.
“Kurwa…” he muttered, staggering backward.
A few of the other bandits had noticed the commotion. Some laughed, others just watched. Dry Devil, sitting by the fire, smirked.
“Looks like our stray cat has claws,” he said loudly.
Katherine didn’t lower the dagger until Adder stumbled away, muttering curses in Polish. She turned to see Zizka standing across the camp, arms crossed, watching her with the same unreadable gaze. He did nothing to stop what happened, and now, after catching her stare, took a sip from his cup and looked away.
***
The next morning, Katherine woke up to the sound of steps outside her tent. She had slept the whole night with one eye open and a dagger under her pillow.
“Hey, wake up,” she recognized Zizka’s voice. “Let's go for a ride. I need to talk.”
Katherine stepped outside and saw him ready for travel.
“I won't go anywhere with you.” She didn’t trust him; she didn’t trust anyone in this camp. “I will not bark as soon as you order. I am not one of your men.”
Zizka chuckled at her surprise.
“No, you are not. I need to talk about business,” he said, looking at her with a smile. “And maybe if you ride with me, Adder won't try to break in next night. I’m just saying.”
Katherine hesitated, glancing around the camp. Most of the men were still asleep, sprawled out near the dying embers of last night’s fire. Hynek was snoring like a pig, and Adder—she spotted him near the supply crates, rubbing his neck where she had cut him. Zizka wasn’t wrong. If she rode with him, it would keep her safe in a bandit camp like this.
She grabbed her cloak and fastened it.
“Fine. But if this is some trick to get me alone in the woods, I will stab you.”
Zizka grinned, already turning toward his horse.
***
They rode in silence, the crisp morning air biting at their faces. Katherine sat behind Zizka, trying to touch him as little as she could. She would have loved to ride on another horse, but she had never learned to ride one. So she endured the closeness to the captain.
Finally, Zizka spoke.
“You want revenge. I understand that. But killing a noble like that—without thinking—it’s reckless. It makes men like Hynek question if you belong here.”
“I don’t belong anywhere,” Katherine said, making the distance between her and the captain a bit bigger.
Zizka kept silent for a long moment.
“Maybe not. But if you want to stick with us, you need to start thinking ahead. Killing is easy. But making the right kill at the right time? That’s how you change the world.”
Katherine scoffed. “And that’s what you’re doing? Changing the world?”
The answer came with a hint of sadness.
“Not yet.”
She looked away, unsure of what to say. Revenge was all she had left—without it, there would be only anger.
“Hynek wants to leave you at the first bathhouse we encounter. He doesn't handle women well. He has some... issues, if you noticed,” Zizka stopped his horse by an abandoned farm. “I, on the other hand, think that you proved yourself useful. Reckless, but useful.”
He got off the horse and offered a hand to Katherine, but she declined it and got off herself. She wasn’t used to riding a horse, but she would rather be clumsy than be tricked by his noble-arse manners.
“Are you really a noble?” Katherine looked at Zizka in disbelief. “You and… Hynek? He looks like an executioner, and you look like a… mercenary.”
Zizka laughed, shaking his head.
“Hynek is a noble. At his own disappointment.”
Katherine still didn’t believe him. “And you?” she pressed.
Zizka smiled, but there was something tired in his eyes.
“Oh, I am noble, alright. Nothing important, just the title.”
Katherine crossed her arms. “So you two became bandits?”
“Let’s call it… adjusting to reality.” He glanced at her. “And you? What were you before this?”
Katherine exhaled sharply.
“A wife. A mother.”
Zizka nodded, not asking more. He didn’t have to. They had found her in the burned village with a dead child in her arms.
She kicked a loose stone on the ground.
“And now I’m just another lost soul in your band of killers.”
“Not lost,” Zizka corrected. “Just… waiting for direction.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“Hynek wants you gone. He won’t kill you, but he has other ways to make your life awful. The men don’t trust you yet. But you can fix that.”
Katherine narrowed her eyes.
“How?”
“By proving you’re more than just a woman who likes to watch men bleed. Join us on the supply raid. Show them you can be useful.”
“And what if I don’t need it?” Katherine still didn’t understand why this captain of the bandits wanted her to stay. She didn’t want to prove herself to any of these outlaws. They were murderers, deserters, and runaway lords.
Yet there was only one thing that this gang could give her…
“I can satisfy your anger. My plan is to make Sigismund bleed. I will make him pay for what he and his army did to you.”
Katherine looked at him. The captain didn’t look like a psycho. But why did he believe he could fight the King himself? The way he was talking—calm, decisive, totally sure of his own abilities. Zizka didn’t look like some young stupid rebel or some power-hungry lord. Something inside her moved.
She believed him.
“So what?” Zizka reached out a hand for a handshake. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
Katherine put her palm in his hand, felt how hard and scarred it was. They made an agreement.
“Welcome to the band.” Zizka smiled at her. It was still wild to see him smile. “Listen, you killed that poor fella so badly, I thought you would stab yourself at one point. Do you want a quick dagger lesson?”
Katherine nodded.
“Okay, I'll show a few tricks and how to hold the thing properly. You wouldn’t have been able to fend off Adder yesterday if he pushed even more—your grasp on the handle was too weak. You should do this.”
Zizka took her hand, put a dagger in it, and closed her fingers.
“That’s way better. Now try to stab me.”
Katherine hesitated, looking at him skeptically.
“You want me to stab you?”
Zizka grinned.
“Try.”
She adjusted her stance, tightening her grip the way he showed her. Then she lunged.
Zizka sidestepped easily, catching her wrist with one hand and twisting it just enough to loosen her grip. The dagger nearly slipped, but she tightened her hold at the last second.
“Better,” he admitted. “But predictable. If I were Adder, you’d already be on the ground.”
Katherine gritted her teeth and tried again, this time feinting before striking low.
Zizka deflected her blow with his forearm, stepping into her space.
“Getting there. But you’re still thinking like someone who’s never had to fight for her life.”
She scowled.
“I have fought for my life.”
“Not like this.” Zizka stepped back, letting her go. “Killing someone in rage is one thing. Killing someone who’s expecting it? That’s a different skill.”
Katherine tightened her grip on the dagger.
“Then teach me.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded.
“Alright. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”
“I don’t want it easy,” she said. “I want to win.”
Zizka smirked.
“Now that is the right attitude.”
When Zizka told her to stop, the sun was already high in the sky.
“Now everyone will believe that we had a hell of a ride in the woods,” he laughed. He was breathing heavily, but Katherine was awfully tired.
“Do you know that you stink?” Katherine gave him a disgusted stare. She agreed to stay in his gang, but she would not let him talk to her like that. “Only a bathhouse whore would ride you. And only after cleaning you up.”
“What?” Zizka looked offended. He went to his horse, mounted it.
“Maybe I really need to leave you at the bathhouse as Hynek offered. At least I'll be able to take a bath there. We’re in the middle of nowhere, lass. Of course I don't smell of flowers.”
“Flowers? You smell worse than the horse.”
Zizka burst out laughing, shaking his head. It looked like all her venom just entertained him.
Katherine climbed onto the horse and sat behind him. She was angry that Zizka kept reminding her that now she would be considered his whore. He was old, stinky, and insufferable… but somehow, she didn’t feel threatened by him.
She swore a little bit, stopped talking, but Zizka didn’t insist on fooling around. So they rode back in comfortable silence.
By the time they reached the camp, most of the men were awake, tending to their horses or preparing for the raid. Hynek stood near the fire, watching them with narrowed eyes.
“Look at them,” he turned to Adder and made his voice loud and clear, “Captain found himself a pet.”
Katherine heard it, but she didn’t react.
Zizka dismounted and stretched.
“Get some food and rest. We leave at sundown.”