A Cold Wind by C. J. Brightley

Author:C. J. Brightley [Brightley, C. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CJ Brightley
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Yuudai chokes on his own blood, his throat gaping open. He stumbles to his knees. With his last strength, he brings up his blade to block a strike that would have hamstrung me. My blade meets another, then the sword is in a Tarvil chest, across a throat, into a gut. There is a blur, and then a stunning pain in my right shoulder and I am staring along the length of a javelin up at the sky. My vision fades, gray around the edges, in and out with my heartbeat. Blood in my mouth. I’ve bitten my tongue, and I swallow the warm coppery taste. From the corner of my eye, I can see Yuudai, facedown in the mud. Beyond him, Mikoto, fallen awkwardly, his sword only half-drawn.

Everything seems quiet, but I think it is only that I am fading. I see the mouth of the Tarvil move; he leans over Yuudai. Then he stares in my eyes. He grins, but it does not reach his eyes, and he pushes the javelin further into the dirt. My head lolls back; I don’t have the strength to keep it up. I hear my heart in my ears, and I cannot tell if it is irregular or if it is only my imagination.

I am not frightened.

The javelin pins me to the ground. The pain scatters lucid thought. All I know is the feel of my ribs grinding against the shaft of the javelin, the searing agony of each breath.

It is cold at night.

Morning comes. A magpie cries close by, then another, and a vulture. I smell blood and sweat. Sour, stinking. The men’s bodies around me smell. I smell. In my mouth is the taste of death.

I have not drunk water for twenty-four hours.

I am thirsty.

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