New Beginning

I started a new beginning for my novel in an attempt to liven things up and add a little more motivation and action.  I think it's pretty good for a first draft:

    Nacoma ran through the forest in a desperate gambit to escape with her life.  If she had been alone, she might have tried to make a stand, but there were too many men for her to fend off herself and protect Alayne at the same time.  Low hanging branches and brush slapped her in the face and scratched her bare arms.  Her breeches threatened to get caught on a bush every other step, but Nacoma forced her legs forward, not daring to slow down in the slightest.  While her left arm pumped up and down as she ran, her right arm hung out behind her, Alayne's hand grasped tightly in her own.  She heard Alayne's panicked breathing, her gasps every time a branch hit her, but her friend never cried out.  Despite the danger of their situation, Nacoma couldn't help but feel a little proud at Alayne's courage.  She was used to studying in quiet libraries and never going outdoors except for a refreshing walk; but with the threat of the men behind them, Alayne's feet were just as swift and sure as Nacoma's.
    The two girls ran in silence, weaving through trees and jumping over fallen logs.  If either stumbled, the other would steady her, and they would continue on in their flight.  Nacoma tried to listen for sounds of pursuit over the beating of her heart and the rapid breaths through her lungs, but it was nearly impossible to hear anything except for the frantic noises she and Alayne made.  She still had enough energy and stamina to continue for at least fifteen or twenty minutes, but Nacoma noticed the subtle change in Alayne's breathing that said she would soon reach her breaking point.  Nacoma squeezed her friend's hand, trying to send strength and reassurance through the pressure of their palms, silently begging Alayne to hold out just a little while longer.  How long, Nacoma didn't know, and she began to despair that they would ever find someplace to hide.
    Their original hiding place, between the giant boulders of the foothills, had seemed the perfect spot to rest for the day.  She and Alayne had been traveling hard from their home at the monastery, and Alayne wanted to rest for a few hours.  Though Nacoma was reluctant to stop in such a forlorn place, she reluctantly agreed after Alayne's persistent urging.  While they nibbled on travel biscuits and talked of the bright future that lay ahead of them at the University, brigands attacked them.  Nacoma was up in an instant, pulling Alayne behind her and running out of the foothills into the forest below.  She had appraised the threat within seconds and knew immediately that she could not bring down all five men on her own.  Alayne was no help at all, the shock of the attack had dulled her wits, so the next best thing was to run.
    Keeping her eyes ahead of them, Nacoma scanned the forest for any bush or mound or ravine that could possibly hide them from the men who followed them.  She tried to listen again for signs of pursuit, and cursed the brigands for their silence.  Most roughnecks would be taunting the two girls, out in the forest alone, but these men were holding their piece.  Nacoma tried to glance back to see if she could catch a glimpse of their pursuers, but all she could see was Alayne's frightened face and the streaming banner of her blond hair in the wind.  She cursed inwardly again—that hair was probably visible from dozens of feet away.
    Gasping, Nacoma pulled Alayne closer as they ran, and as quietly as she could, said, "Look behind you and tell me if you see them."
    Without a word, Alayne turned back and scanned the forest.  She looked back at Nacoma and shook her head.  Nacoma nodded once, but did not slacken their pace.  She still hadn't found a safe place for them to stop, and even if something did present itself, they would have to try and cover their tracks first if they wanted to get away unfound.  They had to assume that the men were trackers too, so even if they'd lost sight of the girls, their frantic running was leaving enough of a trail for anyone to follow.
    Finally, Nacoma heard a sound that made her heart sing with relief.  In the distance was the bubbling flow of water—their salvation.  A break in the trees revealed a stream that flowed with the spring melt coming down from the mountains.  Nacoma veered to the right to follow the stream, making sure that their footprints clearly showed in the dirt the direction they were headed.  When she and Alayne plunged into the water, she jerked her friend to abruptly to the left and started running in the opposite direction.  The icy water filled her boots and cut straight to the bone, but Nacoma did not let her legs slow down.  Alayne didn't speak a word, though Nacoma was sure that the other girl was wondering what on earth they were doing.  What Nacoma was doing was hoping against hope that the water would mask their trail, and that the brigands would follow the false footprints.
    Running the water was harder, and made more noise, but Nacoma prayed that they had enough time to cross their initial path out of the woods and get far enough downstream that the brigands would not see them before they broke the cover of the trees as well.  Unfortunately, they were not so lucky.  When she and Alayne were about twenty feet downstream from where they had come out of the trees, she heard the grunts and curses of the men following them.  Stopping immediately, Nacoma pulled Alayne further out into the water where it was deeper, then pulled her friend under.  Alayne spluttered at first, but she heard the men coming too, and quickly quieted down.  They were fortunate that there were a few large rocks in the middle of the stream, and so they carefully flowed with the water to the nearest rock where they could hang on and keep themselves hidden.
    Five men came out of the trees, searching up and down the stream for their quarry.  One of them pointed to the tracks that Nacoma had made, and the men followed them into the water.  When the footprints disappeared, the men stopped and stood in a circle, conferring with each other.  Nacoma watched them with bated breath, praying that they would take the bait and go upstream, in the direction that the footprints led.  At first she thought that they were surely saved when the men continued to look in that direction, but then they turned around and headed straight towards her and Alayne.  Groaning inwardly, Nacoma pushed Alayne away from the rock and the two began swimming with the current.  They had nothing with them except for their clothes, having left all their supplies and bags back at the rocky outcrop, and the only thing weighing down Nacoma were the knives in her boots and strapped to her waist.  Still, they were made of light steel, so they didn't cut her buoyancy too much.  It was kind of a blessing, really, because the weight kept her body underwater where the men couldn't see her.
    She and Alayne swam quickly but quietly, neither girl looking back in case the sudden movement alerted the men behind.  Each movement became a more and more arduous effort, though, as the biting chill of the snowmelt penetrated their bodies.  Nacoma could clearly see that Alayne was slowing down, and she swam up to her friend to help her alone.  When Alayne felt Nacoma's touch, she seemed to take comfort from it and redoubled her efforts.  The water began to flow faster, and their swimming became a little easier, but the increase in speed worried Nacoma.  If it got too fast, they might not be able to control their progress anymore, and then they would be in just as much danger from rocks in the streambed as the men following them.  Weighing the dangers, Nacoma started to nudge Alayne towards the opposite bank.  Alayne understood and swam to the shore, careful to keep as much of her body in the water as possible.  They had almost reached the bank when they heard a shout from behind.  Nacoma whirled around and saw that the brigands had spotted them.  She grabbed Alayne's arm and pulled her out of the water, practically dragging her.  Their limbs were too numb from the cold, though, and Nacoma could hardly make her arms and legs do what she wanted.  She and Alayne had to crawl from the stream to dry land, trying to warm their bodies enough to continue their flight.
    Nacoma stumbled to her feet first, urging Alayne up.  Taking one of Alayne's arms, Nacoma threw it over her shoulder and supported her friend as they continued to run.  But it was now a losing battle because neither of them could regain their previous speed and desperation.  Lethargy and stiffness had invaded their muscles from the cold of the stream, and Nacoma began to lose hope.  She was supposed to protect Alayne; they were supposed to protect each other.  Now neither of them could even put one foot in front of the other in order to escape the danger that came ever closer.
    Unable to stand it any longer, Nacoma collapsed against a nearby tree, taking Alayne down with her.  They gasped together, their eyes tightly shut in the pain they felt together, and the anguish that seeped into their hearts made them cling to each other in fright.
    Alayne opened her eyes and said, "You should go on without me."
    "No, don't even say things like that to me," Nacoma said furiously.  "I am never leaving you, sister."
    "I can hold them off, at least for a little while.  You have to get away, for the both of us."
    "No!  It would make me nothing but a coward," Nacoma said, trying to block out Alayne's pleas.
    "Nacoma, you must.  One of us has to make the journey.  I've been thinking about what to do, and I think I can cast a spell that will hold them back for a little while."
    "Then cast it now," Nacoma said through clenched teeth.  She reached for the knives at her waist and pulled one free.  "You hold them off and I'll take them out."
    Alayne shook her head.  "It's too dangerous.  You need to run."
    Looking into Alayne's clear blue eyes, seeing the fear and love in them, only hardened Nacoma's resolve.  She would not leave her best friend to those wolves.  Determination settling over her face, Nacoma carefully pushed herself up to her feet and turned back towards the stream, back towards their pursuers.
    She glanced down at Alayne and said, "Whatever it is you were thinking of doing, you better do it now.  I'm going after them."
    Nacoma hardly heard Alayne's cry as she ran back to the stream.  Immediately, she was set upon by one of the men.  He was large and burly, the muscle of his arms bigger almost than her thighs.  A few years ago, she might have been intimidated beyond belief by this man, but Nacoma knew enough about the human body now to make it work for her.  She would turn this man's strength against him and make it a liability instead of an asset.  He charged her, his face contorted in a nasty snarl.  Nacoma could see the rotting teeth in his mouth, the dirt on his nose, and the filthy mess of his hair as if she stood mere inches from him.  She let her mind float free and observe the man's movement's dispassionately.  When brought his arm up to slash her with the dagger he held in his fist, Nacoma darted quickly beneath his defenses and slashed upward with her knife, slicing through his throat and cutting the carotid artery.  Hot blood gushed forth, and the man's limp fingers let go his knife and flew to the wound, trying uselessly to keep the life from escaping his body.
     Before the body had even hit the ground, another of the brigands attacked Nacoma.  He was wiry and thin, and far more cautious after seeing his comrade so easily dispatched.  Rather than rush her, he circled Nacoma carefully, sizing her up.  She took the opportunity to do the same, and noted with dismay that he held a sword.  It would be far more difficult to get close enough to use her knives on this man, but fortunately she had other avenues open to her.  Without warning, Nacoma turned and fled downstream, away from the wiry brigand.  He shouted out in surprise, but followed closely on her heels in no time.  That was exactly what Nacoma wanted.  Looking over her shoulder, Nacoma lined up the target in her mind, flipped her knife in her hand, then threw it back in one powerful motion.  The man never knew what caused him to fall so suddenly.  Not wasting any time, Nacoma turned his body over, retrieved her knife, and then relieved him of his sword.  She scanned the area for the other three men, but saw no one.  Icy tendrils of dread gripped her heart, and Nacoma was off in a second.
    Running furiously, she prayed that she was not too late to protect Alayne, but the cries of her friend told her she was.  Though the distance wasn't far, it felt like a lifetime before Nacoma burst in on the three men holding Alayne down on the ground.  She was struggling and crying against them, but they only laughed at her and continued to paw at her clothing.  Nacoma screamed out in rage and charge forward, swearing that she would kill all three for what they were planning on doing to her and Alayne.  Only one man bothered to turn towards Nacoma, he was fat and paunchy and gave her a lecherous grin.  His self-satisfied smirk faltered slightly when he saw the blood covering her, but he recovered quickly when he realized that she knew how to hold a sword.  The fat man unsheathed his own weapon, meeting Nacoma's two inches in front of his face.  He was strong, but Nacoma was fast, and she jabbed, parried, and thrust in quick succession, trying to throw him off.  Within seconds she found her opening and stabbed the fat man in the gut.  As he cried out in pain, Nacoma twisted the blade to make sure the damage she did was lethal before pulling her weapon free.
    Nacoma swung around towards Alayne, ready to fight the other two, but Alayne's urgent shout stopped her.  Without thinking, Nacoma dropped to the ground, hugging the dirt.  It wasn't moments too soon, and she felt a gust of wind swish over her head.  Blood curdling screams cut through the air.  When Nacoma looked up, she saw the remaining two men, now in four pieces, their bodies cut cleanly in half.  They lived long enough to see their insides before dying in front of her eyes.
    The sight of the blood and guts would have reduced Nacoma to a violent bout of sickness if not for her concern for Alayne.  She scrambled over to where her friend lay panting on the ground.  Gently touching Alayne's arm, Nacoma said, "Are you alright?"
    Alayne nodded, her eyes closed tightly.  "I don't want to see it.  Can you help me up so that I don't have to see it?"
    "Of course," Nacoma said, slipped her arm through Alayne's and bringing her to her feet.  The two girls walked back to the stream where Nacoma washed the blood off her face and clothes.  Since they didn't how far they had run, or even where they had come from, they gave up on trying to find their lost possessions, and instead began following the flow of the stream, hopefully to civilization.