Of Blood and Bone (Chronicles of the One) by Nora Roberts

Author:Nora Roberts [Roberts, Nora]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781250122995
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2018-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Winter followed fall and brought with it brutal cold, howling winds, and relentless snow. Despite it, Mallick pushed physical training. Battles, he told Fallon, didn’t wait for balmy spring.

She learned to fight with a sword in one hand, a knife in the other. And when Mallick tripled himself in an illusion, how to fight multiple foes.

She died often, but she learned.

She rode Grace for pleasure, and Laoch for the thrill and the practice, as rider and mount must be one in battle.

Armed with a sword and a small shield she fought Mallick on horseback. Snow blew in sheets while the throaty wind whirled it, and again and again charmed steel rang against charmed steel.

The seasoned Gwydion charged, reared, pivoted with a fearlessness Fallon admired and respected. Laoch exceeded even that skill, Fallon knew, just as she knew her mount’s disadvantage was his rider.

She’d get better.

Swords clashed, their ringing muffled in the curtain of snow. All the hours she’d wielded the sword, all the buckets of water she’d lifted, carried, had given her a sinewy strength. Despite the cold, exertion warmed her muscles. And with an eye and skill she hadn’t possessed only a few months before, she slipped past Mallick’s guard, struck his heart.

He only nodded. “Again,” he said, this time conjuring the illusion of a battle raging around them. Warriors on horseback, on foot, arrows winging, fireballs blasting.

Gwydion charged, Mallick’s sword flashed. But she was ready. She blocked him with the shield, and hammered at him while Laoch drove Gwydion back.

Despite the war cries, the screams of the dying, she heard Mallick’s laboring breaths. And with her honed young strength struck blow after blow. Then swept out with her shield, striking to send him tumbling from his horse.

He landed in the trodden snow with a thud.

Grinning, she leaned forward against Laoch. “You gonna call ‘uncle’ this time? That’s the third time in an hour I’ve—”

Her grin faded as he only lay, eyes closed.

“Oh shit!”

She leaped off her horse, dived to him. As she started to glide her hands over him, he opened his eyes, waved her off.

“Only winded.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Are you sure you’re not hurt? Let me see.”

“I know if I’m hurt or not, and I’m not.” He levered up to sitting. “You unhorsed me, but with your attack so focused on only one opponent, a half dozen could have struck from your flanks.”

“No. Laoch would tell me.”

Mallick’s gaze shifted to the horse, who stood at his ease now. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. And I can sense—not everyone, not every time—but I can sense if one of your ghosts comes at me. Between us, we know. You can’t always know. And you have to take out the primary foe. You taught me that. Take out the primary, take out the next.”

He only grunted, but she heard approval in the sound. And fatigue.

“We should rub down the horses. They’ve been out in this over an hour,” she said.

“They’re strong, healthy creatures. And so am I. We’ll go again.”

But as he got up and started to remount, they heard the shouts.

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