Sura: The Drovers, Book 3 by John D. Brown

Author:John D. Brown [Brown, John D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Epic, Young Adult Fiction, Dragons & Mythical Creatures
ISBN: 9781940427232
Amazon: 1940427231
Publisher: Blacksword Books
Published: 2022-01-24T22:00:00+00:00

14

Split

Ferran didn’t hesitate. He slipped his hand into his stone pouch, grabbed a rock, and hurled it at the soldier’s face.

The soldier flinched to the side, and the rock sailed past.

Itch growled, then darted forward.

The big soldier raised his sword, and Ferran thought he was going to skewer Itch.

But Winwallom had his sling out. He whirled it once and let the stone fly. The soldier’s eyes widened, and he raised his arms to shield his face, but the rock sailed past his defense and struck him in the jaw. A powerful blow from five paces away.

The man reeled back.

Sura charged with her spear and rammed it into his exposed torso. The blade pierced the mail.

The man roared in pain and pulled back. “Sabo!” he shouted.

Sura lunged again, but the man parried the thrust with his sword.

It was Itch’s turn then. He charged in and bit the man on the back of his leg.

The man grimaced, swung his sword at Itch who darted away. “Sabo!” he shouted again.

By the dead, they needed to silence him.

The man lunged at Sura, she parried his blow, but had to give ground. He was a strong man, and he pressed his advantage with another hack, pressing Sura back again, but also putting Winwallom and Ferran on his flanks.

Itch darted in again, bit him a second time on a leg. The man swung his sword again at Itch.

Winwallom slung another stone, and if the man had been a stationary target, it would have hit his helmeted head squarely, but the man was moving too much, and the stone glanced off and careened right past Ferran’s face.

Lords, if they weren’t careful, they were going to end up nailing each other. Ferran needed a striking weapon. Something to clobber the soldier with. Ferran spotted a branch that would make a good club and sprang for it.

The soldier lunged at Sura. She parried it, stuck him with her spear, but her blow didn’t have enough power to break the mail this time.

He grabbed her spear shaft, growled. Pulled his sword back to run her through. But he’d left himself wide open.

Ferran grabbed the branch and swung it two-handed with all of his might at the back of the man’s helmeted head. The branch connected. A good, solid hit. The man stumbled forward.

Sura yanked her spear from his grasp, then rammed the blade home in his throat. It was a horrid blow that sliced open one whole side of his neck.

The man faltered, sprawled to the ground. He tried to get up, but his wound had cut the artery to his brain, and he fell back to the forest floor.

“By the dead,” Ferran said, heaving.

“Shush.” Sura motioned them to be quiet.

Down below in the clearing, the margs were on their feet, facing the hill and barking. A few of the soldiers were looking up the hill as well.

And then Ferran heard the sound of someone else running across the face of the hill toward them. A hundred or so paces away, coming through the trees.

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