Horton's steps were hurried as he jogged through the encampment, his closest friend right behind him as they both marched to what might very well be the fight of their lives.
When one of Horton's wives had run into his tent while he'd been busy discussing the tribe's next raid with his lieutenants, he'd been slightly surprised. When she'd started screaming that a witch wanted to see him, he'd been quite concerned.
Now, as he rounded a corner and came upon a sight that had left him gaping like a newborn toddler upon seeing a giant for the first time, he found his concern turning into fear.
Men and women with whom he'd been fighting alongside with for years now lay helplessly on the ground, groaning in pain and completely unable to move.
And at the center of the circle of defeated warriors, a woman- no, not even. A girl stood, hands on her hips and with a satisfied smile on her face as her head turned slightly, her eyes focusing directly on Horton.
Horton's heart skipped a beat, and not in a romantic way. For all that the kneelers down south might call him and his people savages, he knew that he wasn't stupid. He might not be a genius like his first wife, or a social savant like his friend, but what he did have was the ability to understand an opponent.
And right now, this girl did not consider him or his people her opponents at all.
"Ah." She uttered, her voice surprisingly soft and high-pitched, her accent strange as she casually removed her foot from where she'd been keeping it atop a fallen spearwife. "And so comes the big boss. Took you a while, didn't it?"
Horton remained silent, clutching his stolen kneeler sword with both hands, even as his friend and the rest of the quickly arriving tribe did the same, staring down the girl with as neutral an expression as he could manage, taking the opportunity to examine her further.
As highlighted by her accent, there was no doubt this girl was a complete foreigner. Her skin was pale white, her hands soft and without callouses, and she wore her long, black hair free.
To add to that, she was also fairly tall, not overly so but quite a bit more than most women. More than that, she also visibly lacked muscles, looking more like the delicate kneeler ladies down south than a proper Folk woman.
However, what stood out the most about her was, without a doubt, her clothes. She looked almost like a prostitute, with a skirt that barely went down to her knees and a scandalously short black shirt that left her belly button and arms exposed.
In any other situation, Horton would have barely spared the girl a glance, assuming her naught but a common whore. As it was, however, with dozens of men and women at her feet and looking completely unbothered by the freezing winds striking her bare skin, the girl cut a nigh-mystical figure.
"Why are you here?" Horton spoke, his entire examination having barely taken a few seconds. He took a step forward, aiming his sword at her. "Are you here to merely mock us, witch, or are your purposes nefarious?"
"Oh my god, why does everyone call me a- you know what, it doesn't matter." The girl sighed heavily, flicking her hair back with a motion of her head.
Then, she pointed a palm at them. Horton tensed, wishing for a moment that he'd grabbed his shield as an ominous ball of blood-red light formed in the with's hand.
"Let me spell it out for you in the universal language." The witch spoke, a smirk forming on her face. "You guys will kneel to me, and for as long as I stay here, you'll obey me. In exchange, I'll protect and help you."
She raised her hand to the sky. "If you refuse, well..."
The red ball abruptly fired out from her palm, traveling so fast that Horton barely saw it move. A few seconds later, however, he definitely saw the explosion that lit up the sky for a few moments.
He was almost forced to his knees as a harsh wind abruptly smashed downwards onto them, and he heard several of his people gasp in terror at the show.
"The next one will be directed right at you." The witch finished her speech, looking mighty pleased with herself as she put her hands to her hips, smirking at them all as though this was naught but a game to her.
Slowly, painfully, Horton righted himself, glaring at the witch. Then, he spoke, his voice tight but unyielding. "No."
The witch blinked, clearly taken aback. "What?" She half-asked and half-exclaimed, having obviously expected a different answer. "The fuck do you mean by no?"
"We are the Free Folk," Horton spoke, drawing himself up even as he took a step forward. Around him, the entire tribe was silent as they watched the showdown between their leader and the mysterious yet terrifying witch. "We are many things. Strong. Resilient. Ruthless. Unyielding. What are not, however, are kneelers!" He roared, taking several steps toward the witch.
Surprisingly, the witch actually stepped back, looking a little intimidated. Horton capitalized on it ruthlessly. "You may be powerful, witch. You may have defeated our warriors. You may be able to defeat me. But you will never be able to break our spirit!"
The tribe roared their agreement, and at that moment, it mattered not if they were men or women, children or elderly, sick or healthy... At that moment, they were simply Free Folk.
And the Free Folk would rather die than kneel.
The witch's head whipped around, staring at the gathered tribesmen all glaring at her. None approached, but their hostility was nonetheless obvious.
Then, she looked back at Horton, and he saw that her face had contorted into a rictus of pure rage, her hands clenched tight.
"I see." She said, her words far louder than they should have been. Despite her clear anger, her voice was deceptively calm as she spoke. "How admirable. You savages actually have something going for you. Congrats." She praised venomously, taking a step forward, her now reddened eyes still fixed on Horton's tense form.
She spread her arms out, almost as though she wanted to hug someone. "So, in lieu of that, I'm gonna be merciful. Instead of kneeling, I'll accept you simply bowing down to me. Do that, and as I said before, I'll protect you and bring you savages to highs you'd otherwise never reach. If you still try and defy me..."
Suddenly, an impossible pressure descended upon everyone. Horton gasped as he was driven to his knees, feeling as though the hand of the largest giant ever was pressing down on his very soul.
Around him, people cried out as they too fell, and the earth itself shook. Rocks and snow trembled, some of it even rising into the air and failing to fall back down.
"... I will annihilate you." The witch finished, practically snarling the words as she glared down at the panting Horton. "So, make your choice, scumbags. Serve and be useful, or die pathetically. What will it be?"
Horton answered by forcing himself up, feeling his very soul begging him to lie down, and letting out a war cry as he charged her.
By the time the sun rose once more the next morning, the Snow Rider tribe had been reduced to half of its former numbers, with the majority of those remaining being children, elderly, and women.
Unfortunately, it would be far from the last tribe to suffer such a fate.
