Shattered Shields by Jennifer Brozek & Bryan Thomas Schmidt

Author:Jennifer Brozek & Bryan Thomas Schmidt [Brozek, Jennifer & Schmidt, Bryan Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2014-11-04T05:00:00+00:00

Vengeance

ROBIN WAYNE BAILEY

SAMIDAR SWUNG UP INTO THE SADDLE AND SETTLED HER BOW AND quiver upon the saddle horn. She turned for one more look at the rubble of the village, the ruined and smoking homes, and the desperate faces of people whose names she barely knew.

Serafia, a young priestess of the temple, stood close by, trembling and wide-eyed. “No one has ever been able to ride this beast,” she said nervously. “Yet, it takes to you.”

“You see things, don’t you” Samidar said. “All you priestesses see things.”

Serafia cast her gaze downward. “Some see more truly than others,” she admitted in a soft voice. “Jannica foresaw your coming.”

“Now Jannica is dead.” Samidar nudged her horse forward.

“Ride westward,” Serafia called after her. “The sun will guide you.”

Toward the sun, Samidar thought glumly as she rode beyond the village and into the woods. In the spongy earth, she easily picked up the trail of the soldiers who had attacked Shaloneh.

By late mid-afternoon, she left the forest behind and paused on the edge of a grassy, sun-scorched plain. Ahead, a range of low sloping hills rippled against the horizon. They reminded her of far-off Esgaria, her homeland, which was no more, and she felt a rare moment of homesickness. She brushed a hand over the moonstone circlet she wore, the Esgarian diadem, a last artifact of her people.

She despaired to find herself once again in armor with a sword in her scabbard and a demonic dagger at her side. She had hoped for a brief time to find peace with Jannica, but now that hope was lost.

Twilight crept across the sky, and the first stars of evening dotted the heavens as she reached the hills. An easy breeze began to stir her hair, and she tied it back with a leather thong. The breeze turned cool as the shadows deepened, and Samidar shivered. The soldiers’ tracks still led westward toward what remained of the sun. On an impulse, she spurred her stallion to a full run, sure of her direction, and as she rose to the crest of the next hill, she spied the band of soldiers and, just beyond them, the ruins of an old fortress toward which they rode.

Samidar braced one end of her bow against her stirrup and strung it. Then, she selected an arrow from her quiver. The breeze ceased, and the air became still. Fitting the arrow to the bowstring, she drew back with a steady hand, judging the distance and the elevation. It was an impossible shot, but she let her breath out slowly and let the arrow fly.

The string made a soft hum. The arrow arced upward, becoming invisible against the dusky sky. Samidar fitted a second arrow to the string and with the same deliberate care, sent another slender shaft after the first.

Halfway up the next hill, a straggling soldier flung up his arms and tumbled from his horse. An instant later, his nearest companion did the same. They hit the ground together, and two riderless horses reared in panic.

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