At Road's End (Pre-Aztec Trilogy, Prequel) by Zoe Saadia

Author:Zoe Saadia [Saadia, Zoe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-11-09T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The man repeated the phrase, his voice low and threatening. Lifting the flint-bladed club, Tecpatl pressed his knife between its hilt and his sweaty palm. It would be foolish to fight this way, but he could not offer a decent hand-to-hand anyway.

He moved as if changing his pose, but in doing so he pushed her back, sheltered behind him.

“Listen,” he muttered without turning. “When I deal with this one, you run for the tunnel. Get in and keep moving. If someone follows you, hit him with my sword. Just hit into the air without even looking.”

His eyes were locked with the eyes of the approaching man and he couldn’t tell if she was listening, but he felt her tensing behind him.

“Do as I say. I’ll catch up with you, but do exactly as I say! Don’t come back for any reason. Do as I say.”

The man was nearer now, his movements calculated, cautious. The movements of a hunter.

Which made him the prey, he thought. A cornered animal. And the cornered animals were dangerous. They had nothing to lose.

His grasp on the club tightened. He had become fond of this flint-spiked weapon. Yet, its hilt was slippery this time, the cuts on his palm still bleeding.

Painfully aware that he was in no condition to offer a decent fight, he straightened up. There were many ways to die honorably. But for Sakuna he would be at peace now.

“Remember,” he whispered urgently. “Run for the tunnel the moment he attacks. Don’t pay attention to the archer. Just get into the tunnel and keep moving. Find where it leads.”

He could feel her shuddering. The warmth of her skin gave him strength. He shifted his grasp and readied to let it go for the benefit of using the knife.

The man attacked carefully, seeming as though unwilling to hurt his prey more than necessary.

Their clubs clashed, slipped over each other, then rose again. Seeing various opportunities he could have used to hurt his enemy had he not been confined to the same pose by his wounded leg, he cursed. There were also the opportunities his enemy could use had he intended to kill him. It was a strange battle.

He blinked to banish the grayish mist that kept gathering in the corners of his eyes. Another blow was parried. He had no strength to attack his enemy; he could only deflect the blows, which kept coming, mildly restrained. The man was trying to tire him. Not good! But he just needed time to allow Sakuna to reach the tunnel and put some distance between her and the possible pursuers. Then he will gather his strength to attack, his wound notwithstanding; to hurl himself at the man and, if lucky, kill him before dying by the arrow of his companion.

He parried a side blow and managed to leave a red line on his opponent’s upper arm. It pleased him and gave him time to look around. Sakuna was right by his side, her hand pressed against her mouth, eyes enormously dark and wide in the grayness of her face, their desperation bottomless.

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