The Tyr: Defiance (The Tyr Trilogy Book 3) by Richard Fox

Author:Richard Fox [Fox, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Triplane Press
Published: 2023-06-17T22:00:00+00:00

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Once the bodyguard had moved into the woods, a Slaver whistle came from the tree line.

“Come out.” One of the two guards left behind raised his rifle to his shoulder and pointed at the sound.

“Got a prisoner.” A Worthy army Slaver pushed a bound and gagged Sazon out ahead of him. One of the bodyguards grabbed her by the throat and turned her face up to his.

“Where’d you find this filth?” he asked.

“My squad found her. She’s not talking, but she must be with the rest of the dhimir,” the Slaver said. “She’s close to her fertile season. I claim her by right.”

The bodyguard chuckled.

“The High Lord is on the field. He has first right to increase his harem.” The guard sneered at Sazon. “The Royals are always too spoiled to be decent slaves. Maybe she can carry a child. I bet she’d be thrown out after she’s done weening.”

“Where are the rest of your filth?” asked the other bodyguard as he came around the helicopter.

Sazon mumbled through her gag.

“There was a Linker with her. We had to kill him, but my squad leader thinks he found some decent intelligence on his body. I can’t read dhimir. He can read a little, said it’s about that nuke we’re looking for,” the Slaver said.

“And you didn’t bring it?” One of the bodyguards looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Had to secure this one first.” The Slaver lowered his face. “She’s my first prize. Can I call my squad leader and tell him to bring what he’s found?” He pointed to the helicopter.

“No, you useless asswipe,” the first bodyguard said. “Chain her up in the helicopter and then you’d better be back here with the intel before High Lord Korth decides that Royal trash isn’t worth the trouble to haul back and you’re last in line for fun.”

“Yes, sergeant.” The Slaver pulled Sazon away from the other guard and shoved her into the helicopter. Sazon curled into a ball and covered her face. The Slaver fumbled around in one pocket, then leaned between the cockpit seats.

“You have handcuffs?” he asked.

“Piss off. If you can’t secure your claim, you don’t deserve one. What shit of a clan are you even from?” the pilot asked.

In the woods, the ripple of exploding grenades cracked through the air.

Clay drew a pistol from his cargo pocket and angled the barrel downward. He shot the pilot twice in the chest, the bullets exiting out his back and into his seat. He swung the pistol around the co-pilot. The other Slaver grabbed him by the wrist and twisted the gun toward the control panels. The two wrestled for control of the gun.

Sazon drew a small pistol from the inside of her blouse and gripped it in one of her bound hands. She pointed it at the guards, who froze. Her finger pressed against the trigger, but she couldn’t bring herself to fire.

Clay punched the co-pilot in the face, shattering teeth and tearing up the Slaver’s lips. He wrenched the gun free and stabbed the muzzle against the Tyr’s heart.

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