Blood in Snow: (The Riddle in Stone Series - Book Three) by Evert Robert

Author:Evert, Robert [Evert, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: FICTION/Fantasy/General
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2014-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

Edmund stood in the valley he and Vin had gazed down upon shortly before they’d learned of each other’s secret. In the middle of the open area between the lofting hills, he’d heaped a great many boulders. From a distance, the pile would undoubtedly appear as a burial marker. King Lionel couldn’t miss it.

Edmund took off his snowshoes and jumped repeatedly, packing the snow firmer underfoot. If things didn’t go as planned, he’d need to be able to move as quickly as possible, and he couldn’t do that in snowshoes. He continued stomping in a wide circle around the stone mound, packing the snow as flat and as solidly as he could.

The eastern sky began to lighten to a pale blue and, strangely, seemed to promise a bright, sunny day.

So much for your storm.

Either way, this will be over soon, storm or no storm.

He picked up the long wooden staff he’d fashioned out of a tree branch and thrust it into the snow near the boulder pile. It sunk two feet in before thumping up against something hard.

Keep that staff handy. Without it, you’re probably going to die.

It doesn’t matter if I die or not, as long as I take Lionel with me.

He inspected his short sword. Its black blade was as sharp as any butcher’s knife, but it was short—much shorter than the longsword King Lionel would undoubtedly wield. Already outmatched in both skill and physical prowess, the last thing Edmund needed was to be outreached. He’d learned that lesson when he last fought Gurding.

Concealing himself as best as he could, Edmund cast his enlargement spell, doubling the blade’s length to resemble a longsword. He swung it about. Any longer and it’d be too awkward to use effectively.

A horse emerged on the valley’s easternmost hill. Then two others, followed by fifty more. Soon a couple hundred riders and their panting horses had lined the entire eastern ridge. King Lionel stood at the line’s center under his banner of red and gold.

“Beautiful spot for a battle,” he called down to Edmund. “Are you sure you do not wish to have our armies fight? It would be splendid!”

“Are you too scared to fight me by yourself?”

“Of course not!” the King shouted back, and then he added wistfully, “It’s just that you’re ruining all of my fun! I rode here with all these men and everything, endured these godless lands and its blasted weather. I want a big battle! Horses charging! Swords flashing! Wounded men screaming for their mothers! It would be glorious! What do you say? Maybe they’ll even sing songs about it. Did I tell you I brought my minstrels? I’ll make them promise to make you taller and better looking in their ballads!”

“Come down and fight me, you coward!”

“If you call me that one more time …” the King bellowed.

Edmund took off his fur-lined cloak, scarf, and long, heavy coat and lay them atop his pack, next to a stack of firewood he’d piled well outside the ring of packed snow.

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