The Battle for Jordborg by Logan Petty

Author:Logan Petty [Petty, Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-17T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8:

The late morning sun shone down upon Jatharr as he sat at the trunk of a finely carved tree, watching his new recruits go through their drills for the sixth time today. Many of them proved handy with a blade, but their styles were unrefined. If they expected to survive the horrors of the battle to come, they needed to be faster, more precise. They needed at least a month to set those skills to muscle memory. They had until the Swerdbrekker returned, which he expected would be any day now. Doubt swirled in his mind as a cool breeze pushed through the grove. Even with a dragon on their side, he did not believe this ragtag band could pull off a siege against the mightiest hold south of Anvilheim.

Complaints issued from the recruits along the hill as many broke from their drills to sit down beneath the shade or lean against the trees. Jatharr rose to his feet, turning to the layabouts.

“Did I tell you to stop, shieldlings? Last I checked, the standing agreement was ye drill til ye return the scepter that ye stole or til we stop to bury yer ragged corpses. I don’t see a scepter in my hands.”

A young centaur with brown hair and a sandy colored coat waved at Jatharr dismissively. “Pipe down, old man. We told you. No one stole that stick of yours. Everyone already turned out all their belongings. We need to take a break now.”

The sound of steel scraping against wood let the young centaur know Jatharr had drawn his sword from its scabbard. He straightened up as the halfling paced toward him. A fire burned behind the captain’s eyes as he spoke in low tones.

“So, ye think yer the leader of this operation now, do ye? Want to show me you deserve that honor?”

The other trainees gathered in a circle around the captain and his opponent. Jatharr knew that tension had been building toward this standoff for days. This young centaur, the one they called Reichter, managed to gather a following among the recruits as he proved his strength and prowess over and over in the past week. Jatharr did not doubt he amounted to the strongest fighter in this batch of recruits, but he was a brawler. The boy had no training outside of using raw power to overwhelm his foes. His attitude grew worse each passing day, especially after Sawain put Jatharr in charge in his absence.

The young stallion flexed nervously as he drew his sword. “I’ll crush you for the honor of the Harthaz, you treacherous little—“

Before he could finish, Jatharr charged him, rushing between his legs as Reichter swatted at the air behind him. Jatharr grabbed his tail and hoisted himself up to his lower back. The young stallion reared, trying to throw Jatharr off, but he held tight. He scaled the muscular equine mass, sword clenched in his teeth. Reichter bucked and thrashed, swinging his sword wildly, connecting with nothing. He gasped as he felt a hand grab his hair, pulling his head backward.

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