The Beast and The Sibyl (A Prydain novel Book 2) by AJ Adams

Author:AJ Adams [Adams, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten: Siv

I left in a filthy temper, and so it took me a mile or two to realise I’d made a fatal mistake. With the ground sodden wet, I splashed through puddles, freezing my feet and kicking every rock and thistle in Prydain. Discomfort isn’t a problem, but numb feet can kill you. It takes one deep cut to slow you down, and an infection will sicken you to the point where you can’t hunt. Without companions to watch over you, you’re dead.

So I sat on a rock, thinking things over, and I decided I’d been a damn fool. Bliss was out of my reach through my own fault. She was impossible, having a tongue like a knife and far too many Prydain morals, but for all her faults I’d thought we’d become friends in the time we’d spent together. Ultimately, though, she’d rejected me. That hurt. I knew I should’ve made her change her mind, but I’d tried my damnedest and it hadn’t worked.

Considering everything, I concluded I just wasn’t likeable enough. That really stung. What was also kicking my balls was that I’d been so taken with trying to get Bliss that I’d lost my common sense. I should have gotten boots and most of all, I should have stolen a boat. It’s madness to try and cross a continent filled with wolves, bandits and worse when you can simply sail home.

So I was on my way back, heading for the lodge and intending to chart my way to the village harbour from there when I smelled smoke. When I saw flames, I broke into a run.

There were a dozen of them, all armed to the teeth, and Bliss was taking them on single-handedly. She kneed one in the balls, and it took a swipe of a cudgel to keep her from wringing his neck. They were all over her, but I got there just in time to stop a scrawny whoreson from slaughtering her.

She threw up when she saw me deal with the bastards, but she didn’t swoon or hang about wringing her hands. The second I took out the last man, a fine slice that gutted him like a fish, Bliss was up and darting straight into the burning lodge.

I almost died of terror on the spot.

“You! You filthy Beast!” The red-faced, fat gut squire was kicking his horse, sweeping towards me. “Die!” he yelled.

It would’ve been laughable if Bliss hadn’t been in trouble. The silly bastard cut at me with his sword, missing me by a clumsy mile, so I just grabbed an ankle and pulled him off his pretty horse. I was about to gut him when Bliss was yelling, “No! Don’t!”

I pulled back, but the rassragr fainted. The Patriarch took one look and was racing away, his black stallion eating up a mile with every stride. Some of the other horses took off with him, the rest milling around, confused by smoke and flame.

“Saga!” Poor Bliss. For a moment, I thought the wolf had perished, but then I saw her belly move.

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