The Bone Sword by Walter Rhein

Author:Walter Rhein [Rhein, Walter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harren Press
Published: 2014-10-03T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Marching Archers

Malik, Gerard and his two sons made their way, single-file, through the knee-deep snow. Malik had decided that Noah and Jasmine should stay behind. Noah complained, of course, but Malik had feared the journey would be too hard for them, and the destination too dangerous. Gazing back along the trail they had cut through the snow, he felt confident he had made the proper decision.

Progress wasn’t all a struggle. At occasional intervals, there were stretches where the wind had blown the fluffy powder into drifts, leaving bare rock and an easy trail. Still, the going was hard, and Malik knew it would be many days of cold camping before they had made their way back to civilization.

“Four swords,” Malik said, “four swords to start a revolution.”

“With a bone sword among them, those aren’t bad odds,” Gerard replied. “Other revolutions have begun with less.”

“And there are sixteen Nightshades accompanying Father Ivory, you say?” Malik continued, ignoring the compliment.

“Yes,” Gerard replied, his tone as serious as Malik’s.

Malik bowed his head in thought as he walked. They were running a ridge that allowed them to gaze down into the valley below.

“Sixteen,” Malik whispered reflectively. “I fought four in the wilderness outside of Elmshearst.”

“A worthy total,” Gerard replied with a grin. “The whole contingent of Elmshearst only managed a count of five.”

Malik looked back at him sternly.

“If Jasmine hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have survived it. This isn’t going to be easy.”

Gerard nodded, “It never is. But at least we’ll have the element of surprise on our side, eh?”

Malik still seemed unconvinced.

“How good are your lads with their bows?”

Alec and Michael perked up. Alec, the younger, gracefully strung his weapon and knocked an arrow. For a moment, he stared out along the ridge, the air whistling through his full head of hair. Then, with an almost effortless motion, he drew back the shaft and loosed it seemingly at random at a spot about eighty yards ahead of them. Without a word, he unstrung his weapon and marched forward. The others followed silently.

Scrambling between some boulders, Alec came across his arrow, which had pierced a snow rabbit through the breast. He picked it up proudly.

“Michael probably could have taken it through the eye,” Alec said with a grin, “but dead is dead as far as I’m concerned.”

Gerard smiled proud then said, “Aye, dead is dead.” Turning to Malik, he continued. “They were the two best archers under my command,” he said. “I suppose any father prefers to see a wall between his children and his enemy rather than just a sword.”

“I suppose so,” Malik responded, “but something tells me you wouldn’t have neglected to teach them proper swordplay.”

“They can hold their own,” Gerard said.

Alec had already set about skinning the rabbit. He hung the steaming body from his belt.

“We’ll have to catch another to have a fair supper tonight,” he smiled, “but if we have to make do with this, perhaps we could prepare a stew.”

“Uh-huh,” Michael growled sarcastically, “and what pot are we going to boil it in?”

Alec’s eyes widened in embarrassment.

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