The Prisoners of Fate: Sequel to The Emperor's Prey by Han Jeremy

Author:Han, Jeremy [Han, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Jeremy Han
Published: 2015-03-10T04:00:00+00:00

43

Sulphur hung heavily in the air like the stench of death. The massive doors lay broken as though a giant had smashed through them, and as the smoke cleared it became clear that the way forward was open. The surviving imperial bodyguards were trying to recover from the blast. Several men were on the ground, and others tried to re-organise with little success. Most of them appeared hurt.

Yang lifted his sabre and shouted, “ATTACK!”

A loud, ululating war cry erupted, and with a great shout the Mongol band charged. Baldy and Shaggy did their part as commanders urging their men on while Yang kept a few paces back and allowed the men who were filled with battle lust to surge forward. He kept his head about him, resisting falling into the same bloodlust. He was the overall commander after all, whether the Mongols realised it or not, and he had to remain a distance away from the heat of the fighting so he could make tactical decisions. He had to keep Kong’s bigger picture in mind.

Shaggy yelled as he raised his axe and brought it crashing down on a Jinyi Wei who was struggling to stand after his leg had been severely wounded from the explosion. The heavy blade crunched through the neck of the man, blood spurting thickly from the severed neck. The few unhurt members of the imperial bodyguard fought like devils, taking several Mongols with them through superior skills. They soon found themselves outnumbered though and were driven backward before being overwhelmed as though they were trying to contain the crashing sweep of the tide. A few survivors retreated to the inner courtyard, where they had to make their last stand while trying to find a way to get the royals to safety.

Ji Gang and Zhao Qi looked at each other, both having arrived at the same conclusion: the Jinyi Wei would not have retreated if they had contained the attack. They were the only ones that stood between the tidal wave of attackers and the imperial household.

“I’ve sent Li Jing to find a way out!" Zhao shouted. "We've got to buy him time!”

“Got it!” Ji Gang replied. There was no time to argue about tactics, strategy or who was in command. They were both commanders, and they had to work together.

Funny, Zhao thought. How I am now fighting alongside my greatest enemy? But he had no more time to think before springing into action like a tiger.

An imperial bodyguard had turned to block a slash by a Mongol, their weapons clashing loudly. When he tried to attack back, he was slashed by another attacker, thrown off balance as the two men raised their weapons. They were about to kill the fallen warrior when Zhao launched himself straight into their path, his extended fingers bent like tiger claws. Zhao struck without mercy, crushing the windpipes of the two Mongols before dropping his hands low and driving his elbows hard into the enemies’ rib cages.

Crack!

Both men dropped like stones.

Crouching in the low stance of the Tiger’s Fist, he faced the next attacker.

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