Blood Reign (Hateful Tales Book 1) by Ezra Payne

Author:Ezra Payne [Payne, Ezra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Virulent Press
Published: 2024-02-24T00:00:00+00:00

At the height of day, Vasovan siege towers rolled into view, sporting the dual hammer flags of the city and runed bodies dangling from the tops. The crunch of armoured marching carried over the sands to greet the defenders. The dunes were dark with soldiers.

Spade stood a mile away from Bal’kar in a small shielded pit. A row of archers stood either side of her, each in their own hole with a pot of white arrows and a brazier at their side with more arrows planted within the burning coals. With no supply of lumber, they’d spent days carving arrows out of sandworm bones to feed the bows of the two hundred trained archers just outside the city.

Spade placed a longbow upright in the ground and ran her fingers over the perforated tip of one of her arrows. She’d modified hers to shriek when fired.

The towers loomed, wheels moaning over the sand and the wide spiked pin rolling closer.

Their captain stood next to her, awaiting her signal. She eyed the rolling cylinder as it squashed the unassuming rock they’d put in the sand.

“Now!”

The captain raised his arm, the city watchtower’s warhorn boomed and a cloud of golden grains shot up beneath Vasova’s army as buried Hexxets burst out of the sands. The towers halted amid soldiers’ screams and hundreds of roaring Hexxets.

“Archers, ready!” cried the captain. “Nock! Draw! Loose!”

The group sent forth a volley of arrows that battered the front line of soldiers. A muffled shout came from the cloud. The dust settled and the towers resumed their advance. The archers looked to their captain.

“Nock! Dra—” An arrow slammed through the captain’s eye and floored him to the sands.

“Brace!” Spade shouted.

They darted behind the shielded pits and a rain of dark wood pelted the group.

One of the archers screamed. “We’re gonna die!”

Spade’s heart boomed. Her bow slid in sweating palms, but she knew losing this battle would be far worse than dying fighting it. “We will die,” she barked, “if you don’t fire those fuckin’ arrows! Draw!”

She rose from cover and an arrow sliced her cheek, breaking her stance. Leaning low, she saw the petrified face of an archer shuddering behind the iron barrier. Spade bit her cheeks, wiped the blood from the cut and regained her posture.

“Draw!” She pulled her string taut, focused only on the wall of targets in the distance. “Loose!”

The lone banshee arrow screamed across the sands, wailing until it impaled the opposing sharpshooter.

She retreated behind her shield and a second wave of Vasovan missiles slammed the group.

“Nock!” Spade roared, her throat dry and hoarse. “Draw!” Again, she drew back the longbow. “Loose!”

Four arrows flew beside hers, burying themselves in their enemies.

She huddled under the shield. It rang loud as dozens of arrows pinged against it.

“Nock!” Spade prepped another arrow. “Draw!” She rose, seeing several archers rise next to her, and spied the commanding officer nestled amongst the Vasovan soldiers ahead. “Loose!”

The screaming missile soared through the air with a score of bolts at its side, slamming into the commander’s chest.

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