Blood Duty by J. R. Tomlin & C. R. Daems

Author:J. R. Tomlin & C. R. Daems [Tomlin, J. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Talon Novels
Published: 2011-08-05T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

A breeze rustled branches overhead. A waterfall gurgled and splashed. A horse whinnied, faint with distance. Jessup froze.

Near the river, birds burst from cover, giving calls of alarm as they flew. He peered through the trunks and the foliage of green and gold.

His pursuers were somewhere close, but nowhere in sight. The aspen grove glowed golden where a thrush was trilling an early morning song near a small waterfall. A dusting of snow had left patches of white on the ground, but they were melting fast. A juniper tree was laden with a crop of dark blue berries.

He tied his mount to a branch and hurried toward the top of the slope. The ground dropped off sharply on the other side, and he would be able to get a clear view of the river. Tree branches wet from the light snow slapped at him as he slipped past them, over fallen logs and patches of scree. Dappled snatches of sunlight lit his way.

His breath was fast, and cold sweat ran down his face and back. His blood pounded in his ears. Sucking in a breath from a stab of pain in his side, he went on. At last, he slipped out of the trees into the clearing to peer down where the river coursed through the valley, winding its way partially hidden through the trees. He could see the rocky river bed through the clear water and patches of spume where dark rocks thrust up. He scanned the opposite side of the river far below.

Movement under the tree cover caught his eye. He spotted them, four horsemen, picking their way along the rocky bank. Four in the black leather armor and blond braids of Faragund warriors.

Jessup slid back into the protective cover of the trees. He had three arrows left in his quiver—ten he had already left in his pursuers. He nocked an arrow.

Squinting, he sighted on one of the warriors below. Barely breathing, he waited for them to get within a bowshot range. He put tension to the string. Everything else faded. He saw only the arrow and a spot over the warrior's heart. He exhaled and like a sigh, the arrow left the bow.

Again, another arrow nocked and released to glide into a distant warrior's chest. Two warriors galloped up the slope toward him. But his world was quiet as his last arrow cleared the bow. The string thumped his armguard.

The dying warrior's eyes met his. Jessup threw his bow aside to jerk his sword free.

The last warrior thundered by as Jessup hurled himself to the ground and rolled out of the way. He slashed at the horse's rear leg, and it screamed as it went down. Jessup jumped to his feet, whirling around. The Faragund had caught his leg under the thrashing horse. Shouting, he struggled to free himself, hacking at Jessup with a sword. The edge of his sword just nicked Jessup's arm as he sidestepped and drew a killing blow, backhand across the man's throat.

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