Mordraud, Book One Read Free Page B

And not even the shadow of available women. Varno wanted to make something of himself, but he hadn’t the faintest idea where to start. So he decided to taste life as a mercenary – it seemed like a great idea.
    He ’d been a complete idiot.
    “ I don’t want to die...”
    He ’d followed the battle nailed to the tree by the horseman’s lance. He’d even had the satisfaction of watching the man shoot off his horse, and chuckled when its hooves had smashed his face in. In the end, Varno’s life had lasted longer than his executioner’s.
    H e was about to die for nothing, he realised. It had been little more than a scuffle, an unimportant clash within the Empire’s far-reaching strategy. Yet that morning, as he advanced with the new mercenary troops, he’d deluded himself that he was finally taking part in a ground-breaking event; a line on a resplendent page of history.
    N othing more than a skirmish far from the front.
    ‘ In Cambria, they’ll wipe the floor with a flag or two, they’ll correct a line of ink marking the front, then they’ll turn their attentions elsewhere... to a nice roast with a rich sauce probably,’ he mused, making an effort not to laugh. His shoulder hurt like torture. His right arm – the good one – hung weakly at his side. The armour was too heavy, and the mud beneath him had swallowed up his legs.
    They ’d lost. His first battle, his first time outside that sodding village.
    He ’d lost.
    “ Oh, what shite...”
    The enemy horsemen were clearing the field of the few survivors. Just the slightly wounded – the moribund and the maimed were left there to die. Strange, thought Varno. Elder’s men were in a great hurry to leave.
    “ Can you move?”
    Varno painfully turned his head and felt his heart leap for joy. Dear old Nedrio. That blessed barrel of lard had managed to get through it all. His forehead was thick with clotted blood, an ear had been shaved off, and even his hallmark belly didn’t seem in too good shape.
    But he was alive, and at his side .
    “ I think... I can...”
    “ Hold on!”
    Nedrio glanced at the nearest rider and waited for him to trot away. The field was teeming with casualties, and it would be some time before they, on the edge of the forest, were reached. The friend grabbed the spear with both hands at the right moment and tugged with all his might.
    And he had plenty of might. Before becoming a mercenary, he’d been a blacksmith. Nedrio was the only one in the village who’d left with him. Varno had never felt so much love for a man.
    The pain he experienced when the spear was pulled out was wo rse than countless deaths all together.
    “ Come on, let’s make a getaway!” growled Nedrio as he tossed the lance aside, but Varno couldn’t stop screaming. He sounded like a pig being flayed alive. An enemy soldier turned towards them. The blacksmith’s hand was already on his sword, but was amazed to see the man turn his horse round and ride away.
    It was their golden opportunity .
    “ Stop squealing and follow me!” bawled Nedrio, as he slapped him a couple of times. Stunned and delirious in pain, Varno clung onto him and together they went beyond the first rows of trees, soon disappearing into the dense darkness of the forest.
    The sun had set in a hurry. A few more moments and everything would be shrouded in obscurity.
    “ Better... This way they won’t come after us...” muttered Nedrio as he wheezed in exertion. It was hard to move ahead through the intertwined branches and treacherous roots. Not a wisp of wind blew, nor could the slightest sound be heard.
    The forest was sleeping peacefully.
    “ We’ve made it, my friend,” uttered Varno, coughing with rasping violence. There was blood in his breath. They’d been walking for longer than he could remember. He must have hit the ground when the horseman’s charge pinned him to the tree – he was a heap of bruised and broken bones.
    He was in a really bad way. Perhaps too