02 Golden Lion by Wilbur Smith Giles Kristian

Author:Wilbur Smith, Giles Kristian [Wilbur Smith, Giles Kristian]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

ake up, my lady. You must wake up!’ Judith woke, to Mossie pleading with her trying to keep his voice low, but unable to keep his panic at bay, ‘I’m scared! The djinn is coming! What are we going to do?’

Judith blinked the sleep from her eyes. For a moment she thought that the boy had been having a nightmare, for there were no djinns, no evil spirits – not in this world. And it was that hesitation that did for her. For when the door to the bedroom was kicked open, she was still in bed. Though she could still turn and grab the kaskara sword that she had placed beneath her pillows, she was still lying down, beneath a sheet, and by the time she had sprung to her feet there were five armed men in the room, all with their swords drawn, pointing directly at her.

And then there was a sixth, and now, as she looked upon the grotesque leather head, made even more nightmarish by shadows thrown by the silvery moonlight glimmering through the window, she understood that Mossie had been speaking nothing but the literal truth, for if ever there was an embodiment of evil on this earth, this was it. A passing thought darted across her mind: Where is Mossie? Where did he go? But she fought to suppress it for his only hope of survival was that none of these invaders should know of his presence.

The masked man spoke in a voice that rasped like a rusty sword being drawn from a bone-dry scabbard. ‘Dinnae try to fight, General Nazet.’ The rank was emphasized with limitless scorn. ‘You’ll die if you do. Aye, you and the bairn in your belly too.’

She knew he was right. She had become accustomed to defending herself in the way of a man, but now a deeper intuition told her she would have to resist in the way that women had always done, not by fighting, but by enduring. For men had only themselves to worry about. But a mother had always to live for the sake of her child, far more than for herself.

She put the sword down and got out of bed. She was wearing nothing but a nightgown of linen so fine it was almost transparent. ‘May I put on my gown?’ she asked.

‘No, you may not,’ the masked man said and loomed over her, tilting his head this way and that, so that he could examine her thoroughly through his one eye hole. There was something disgustingly suggestive about the long beak that stuck out like an angry, pointed phallus and Judith longed for armour to shield her from his hungry gaze, and those of his men. She felt utterly exposed, vulnerable, soft and weak and she, who had led armies, killed men in hand-to-hand combat and trampled over the bodies of her vanquished foes, now felt possessed by an overpowering urge to cry.

No, by God, I will not give them that satisfaction! Judith thought and forced herself to stand tall and stare right back at this malevolent birdman.

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