Champions Battle for the Fate of the Future!: The Wild Finale of (Swords Versus Tanks Book 5) by M Harold Page

Author:M Harold Page [Page, M Harold]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Warrior Metal Tales
Published: 2016-05-26T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

The river surged around Ranulph's legs, a fluid snare trying to drag him over. Tendrils of ice water seeped into his greaves and seared his bruised shins. He angled himself into the current and waded deeper. The cold burned his thighs, his crotch, his belly – stealing his breath as the Inquisition fire would have done Maud's.

Behind the roar of the rising water came the chant of his name, but nobody had the stature to follow him into the rising torrent. "I’m getting too old for this."

The water reached the top of his chin piece and spilled inside; sheet lightning on the skin of his throat, his chest, his spine.

Squat war machines pressed against the far bank, flashing death from each side turret. A continuous thunder battered his ears, punctuated only by gunstones screaming overhead to murder his army.

Another step took him to the middle of the swollen river. Foam lapped his lips.

Ranulph drew breath through his nose, but managed only to inhale a stream of freezing liquid. He gagged, choked, and rose up on his toes to gasp for air.

A rock turned under his boot. His right foot plunged into a hole and the river swallowed him. Frigid claws wrapped his head, pried at his eyes and mouth.

He thrust his free foot but only managed to throw himself backwards into the darkness. The current tumbled him. Rocks clanged on his plate armour. "Up" and "down" dissolved into a numbing whirl.

Still clutching Steelcutter, Ranulph flailed, drew in his legs and sprang for what might be the surface. His helmet thudded into something solid. He sank, rolled and lodged against a rock.

Each beat of Ranulph’s heart drew the blackness closer. His lungs burned as if he had inhaled wild fire. Some part of him laughed – he was doomed after all, but this was not the sort of end Albrecht would have drawn. Would Ragnar welcome him to his pagan afterlife?

But with the stillness returned his sense of place. Somewhere beyond the darkness was Maud, wild enough to need his protection, and magnificent enough to merit it.

Jaw clenched against the river, Ranulph pushed off the bottom and stood up.

The water drained from his helm. He inhaled. A pulse of light robbed his sight, but air filled his lungs. Nearby, the guns roared. Behind him, thousands of knights cheered.

He cocked Steelcutter over his shoulder and, under-padding squelching with each step, trudged towards the noise. The river streamed from his armour. He was half-deaf from the water in his ears, half-blind from the Invaders' fireworks. But he knew where to find his enemy.

There was a double flash and a thunderclap. A dark shape roared down on him.

Blinking water from his eyes, Ranulph swung Steelcutter. The blade struck something solid and jarred his arms. His eyes adjusted. Before him stood one of Jasmine's war engines, every inch clad in wood and hide.

The nearside gun belched flame, and the war machine rocked.

Ranulph's lips cracked into a grim smile. There were parts that they could not cover.

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