Soul Binder (Personas of Legend Book 1) by Dante King

Author:Dante King [King, Dante]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-08-23T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Cara and I, clothed in our Personas, followed Toshiro through the main hallway of the big house and out onto the road in front. On the left, the wide expanse of the deep lake filled most of the valley, curving around to protect the left side of the house. On the right, the land dropped away into the valley, and the road climbed up in front of us to the high ridge over which we had come yesterday.

Now, looking up from the porch, we could see dark mounted figures streaming over the ridge.

“There are very many of them,” Toshiro said in a quiet voice. Then he called over his shoulder, “Win, tell everyone to get inside the house. They should go into the stone wing, they’re least likely to be injured there.” The old servant, who had followed us out front, hurried off to carry out the master’s orders.

“Those mounts don’t look like horses,” I commented as the dark mass of figures moved down the slope at an even pace toward us.

“They’re almost like wolves,” Cara added.

“They are Byakko, white tigers,” Toshiro confirmed. “In the northern islands there are places where the local people train the tigers as war mounts, then capture their spirits, but here in the south there is only one group who use them; the Byakko mercenaries.”

There was fear in his voice as he said it, and that made me glance at him. “Particularly fierce mercenaries, I take it?”

He gave me a wry look. “You could say that. They are bound to the spirits of the tigers they ride, and they are imbued with the ferocity of their mounts when in combat. It’s said that the Byakko mercenaries have never been defeated in battle.”

I reached out and felt the reassuring presence of the heavy armor of Ironside just waiting for me to reach out and claim it.

“Perhaps we’ll break that myth for them today,” I said.

The mounted horde thundered down the sloping incline toward Toshiro’s house. They pulled up fifty yards from where we stood, a band of two hundred battle scarred and fearsome looking men armed with all manner of bladed weapons; long spears with curved heads, graceful, slightly curved samurai swords, axes, straight swords, daggers, and knives. Many had bows on their backs as well. Their armor was brightly colored and followed no uniform pattern, except that every man has somewhere on his gear a symbol of a tiger’s head.

Their mounts were like nothing I’d ever seen during my life in Saxe. We’d heard of tigers—I’d seen images of them in books, and once I’d seen a carving made of stone which had been traded from an unknown land—but nothing in my previous experience prepared me for this.

They were easily as tall as horses, and broader than any warhorse I’d ever seen. Heavy muscles bunched and bulged under thick coats of dense white fur, striped in black. They were dressed in battle harnesses of leather, chain mail, and plate, and like the armor of

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