The Ghosts Omnibus One by Moeller Jonathan

Author:Moeller, Jonathan [Moeller, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Azure Flame Media, LLC
Published: 2013-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14 - Riots

Caina’s arm snapped up, a knife in hand. She took a step backwards, her back arched, her arm flung back, and hurled the knife with all her strength. It flew true, making for the mercenary leader’s face. Or, at least, it would have, had his shield not snapped up, sending the blade spinning into the darkness.

“Run!” roared Ark.

Caina spun, snatched the heavy daggers from her boots, and took off after Ark, her cloak snapping out behind her. She heard the heavy pounding of the mercenaries’ boots, and risked a quick look back. Despite their heavy armor, they kept pace.

“Have to slow them down,” said Ark. “The alley on the right. In there, then turn.”

Caina nodded. The alley would force the mercenaries to come at them one and two at a time. Within any luck, they could force them off balance, and make their escape. Ark veered to the right, dashing into the alley between two fine houses, and Caina followed, the mercenaries hot on their heels.

“Now!” said Ark.

Caina whirled, dropping to one knee as Ark’s broadsword stabbed over her head. The blade plunged into a mercenary’s mouth in a spray of blood and broken teeth, and the man sagged with an agonizing gurgle. Ark struggled to wrench his sword free, and another mercenary sprang at him, sword raised over his head for an overhand blow. Caina sprang to her feet, driving her left dagger into the armpit of the mercenary’s upraised arm. He stiffened, and she slashed her right blade across his throat and stepped back besides Ark. The dying man collapsed across his slain companion, and for a moment the mercenaries hesitated.

“Kill them both!” roared the leader.

Another man stabbed at Caina. She jerked to the right, slamming into the wall, and the sword whistled past her. She spun, stepping within his weapon’s reach, and stabbed for his face. But he stepped backwards, his shield coming up, and Caina’s blow clanged away. Caina heard a scream and a gurgle, and another mercenary fell dead atop the others, blocking the narrow alleyway.

“Run!” shouted Ark. He turned and sprinted, blood falling from his sword, and Caina raced after him, daggers in hand. The far end of the alley opened into another square, below one of the lesser funeral pyramids. A half-dozen streets branched out from that square, and they could escape.

Or so Caina thought, until more armored mercenaries appeared, fanning out to block their escape.

They were almost trapped. But Ark roared at the top of his lungs and leapt forward, his broadsword a bloody arc over his head. One mercenary fell dead, the top half of his head reduced to bloody mush, and Ark crashed into the into the rest. They swarmed around him, and one presented his back to Caina, so she took the opportunity to plunge a dagger into his neck. He fell, and Ark wrenched free of the tangle, blood flowing down his jaw. Caina saw more mercenaries racing to meet them, at least a score more, and some of them had crossbows.

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