HE WHO FIGHTS by Mike Morris

Author:Mike Morris [Morris, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-05T06:00:00+00:00

20

Rane sat by the fire, running his thumb over Kara's locket as the new day broke. He'd not slept, waiting for an attack that never came. The endless soot and ash of the Dead Lands only made the tiredness worse, drying out his throat and blocking his nostrils. He wasn’t alone in that. After a day and a night, half the convoy had hacking coughs — no doubt the rest would join them by evening.

A wind had picked up from the north-east, dragging the dirt up and throwing it around to make things even more uncomfortable.

Around the fire, the other pilgrims were shuffling to their feet, stretching, yawning, whispering words of encouragement to each other. They’d survived a day and a night but there was a long way to go still.

Rane pressed down on the locket and tried to let thoughts of Kara fill his mind but she was an elusive ghost, little more than a shadow. The more he concentrated, the harder she was to see. By the Gods, how he missed her. To feel her touch once more, her warmth, her love. She'd be five months pregnant if things had just continued as they were. Probably just starting to feel the baby kick and move around. Another dream lost.

It seemed another life, belonging to someone far luckier than Rane. What would Kara have made of what was happening there and then, of her husband chasing her brother — her brother turned demon, her husband facing the same fate? Truth was he was grateful she wasn't around to see it, to know of their fall. And who knew what effect the magic would have had on their child?

He could feel the anger growing in him, a flicker, then a flame. All the good things in his life taken away because of what he'd done. Kibon lay next to him. How he hated that sword now. Hated it as much as he’d once loved it. Resented it as much as he needed it. Would he have agreed to the Lord General's plan to bond his soul with the sword if he'd known the real consequences? Were the lives saved worth the cost?

Yes. He’d followed the oath. He’d done what was needed to protect the weak and save lives. Once he got to Orska and cured himself of the curse, the doubts would go with it.

"You ready to move out?"

Myri was standing next to him, her sword strapped to her back, the stump of her right hand held awkwardly against her chest. Her scarf covered her half her face, but there was no hiding the black rings under her eyes.

"Sure," he lied, not feeling ready for anything. Better to be moving though. Better to be heading north. He climbed to his feet and arched his back. "How’re you?"

"Been better." Myri pressed her finger to the side of her nostril and snorted mucus out onto the ground. "But that's not to say things can't get worse."

Rane couldn't argue with that. "Let's get on with it then.

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