Every Battle Lord's Nightmare by Linda Mooney

Author:Linda Mooney [Mooney, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 9781941321423
Publisher: Music And Press
Published: 2015-03-25T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Attack

Atty reached the site where several men, her husband included, were gathered by the edge of the road, not far from where their temporary camp was located. Hurrying over to them, she listened as they discussed what had occurred.

“—best leave it be,” LeGreen ordered the soldiers standing just inside the tree line.

She tugged on Yulen’s sleeve. “What happened? Who screamed?”

“We think it’s a soldier went in to relieve himself.”

“And you’re not going in to find out if it is?”

“He’s one of mine,” LeGreen interrupted. “Accidents happen. We need to be moving on.” The battle lord turned to leave. His callous disregard for his soldier rankled. Without commenting, she turned and pushed through the underbrush, ignoring Yulen’s yell for her to stop.

Given she knew what she was doing was risky. Yet she couldn’t help but remember the many times in the past when others had been separated from the group, only to find death waiting for them. If it had been her, she would have prayed for someone to come looking for her.

She moved quickly. Her growing belly was no small hindrance, but she could still maneuver silently through the dead brush and leaves. Behind her she could hear others coming in after her, or to lend their aid. She knew one of them would be her husband.

Focusing on the foliage around her, she listened for any further sounds. Any whimpering or similar noises that would give her a clearer target.

Something grunted. To her right. Not far.

Arrow drawn, she advanced, mindful of those who were following her. Smartly, they didn’t call out to her. They knew that doing so might draw the attention of whatever danger was in the vicinity.

Another grunt, and she zeroed in on it. Cautiously, she pushed aside a low-hanging branch with the tip of her bow. Fifteen feet away, the soldier lay on his back. He was covered in blood, but it was difficult to tell how injured he was. Or if he was still alive.

Slowly, she took a deep breath. The cold made it nearly impossible to grasp any scent. The thing responsible for the attack could be anywhere nearby.

Atty closed her eyes and drew on her hunting instincts. She felt the hairs on her head rise as her ears sharpened.

The crackle of leaves was her only warning. Whipping around, she let the arrow fly. It caught the soldier in the hollow of his throat. At this close range, the shaft penetrated all the way to his spine. Vainly, he released his weapon and tried to grab the wood to pull it free as blood spurted outward in an arch. The hot fluid steamed in the air.

Her body warned her of more danger a split-second before she dropped into a crouch. At the same time, she heard the solid sound of a sword penetrating flesh. Blood droplets sprayed her face as something inside her told her to duck.

And then the world grew quiet.

She waited, struggling to keep herself from being spotted, when she caught the whisper of a raspy breath.

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