Thieves' Honor by David Combs

Author:David Combs [Combs, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-07-12T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Their departure from Khasharsta was without further incident. Galen easily bypassed the reset trap mechanism in the Cathedral of Starlight, and the four men made their way into the cool evening breeze of the Thelvenin Woods. They rode as hard as they were able, considering Drayton’s condition, setting camp a couple of hours later. The Shadow Lord regained consciousness while Nestor sat beside the injured man to check the bandaged wound. The barbarian proceeded to tell of the remaining events of the battle, including the tragic deaths of Drayton’s brother knights.

“They fought as well as they were able,” he said. “They fell in battle, and no doubt sit in a far fairer place than we have ever seen.”

“They are two more tally marks against that devil, Ambrose. Two more lives that bastard will answer for.” The knight struggled to sit up, but Nestor gently pushed him back to the ground.

“And if you start trying to jump up and down too soon, you’ll be the next. Your wound won’t take that kind of excitement right now. Hell, we’re all lucky to be out of there without some sort of grievous injuries.”

“How did you escape?”

“Tyrell, talked the spirits out of hacking us to bits,” said Galen, “and we found this.” The thief unwrapped the scintillating elvensteel blade allowing the knight to see the reflected campfire dancing like a rainbow across the weapon. After it was passed around among them, Galen carefully and reverently covered it again, cradling the magnificent sword in his arms, as if afraid to put it down.

“He couldn’t have tried doing that before I got stabbed then,” quipped Drayton. Tyrell hadn’t heard the jibe though, as he was lost in study over his prize tome liberated from the Seeker’s Hall.

“All I know is that I don’t want the responsibility of using Shadow Reaver on Kellen. I mean, whoever is going to use this needs to get a lot closer to Kellen than I find comfortable.” The young thief looked back and forth at the two swordsmen with a raised eyebrow.

“Then give it to me,” said Nestor. “I’ll be more than happy to give Ambrose the business end of it after all of the tricks he has played on us.”

“We must still be careful,” said Drayton. “Having a magic sword won’t counter the centuries of experience and cunning tricks that Kellen has mastered. I warn you that when the time comes to face Kellen Ambrose, you will find yourselves hard pressed.” The wounded knight was seized by a fit of coughing that wracked his entire body. When it passed, Nestor saw flecks of blood on the Shadow Lord’s lips. Nestor dipped a cup into a foul-smelling brew that he had placed on the fire and lifted it to the knight’s mouth.

“Here. Drink this. It smells terrible but it cures quite well,” he assured Drayton.

“It certainly won’t cure bad breath,” said Galen who backed away from the mixing pot. Nestor flipped a cupful into the face of the young thief. Galen’s look of surprise and revulsion even brought laughter from Drayton.

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