sounded behind him.
Kendril turned, half-rising.
An emboldened sailor was almost on top of him, a cutlass held in his sweaty hand.
Kendril lunged forward. He swiped his sword at the sailor’s knees.
The man dodged back with a frightened yelp.
Kendril tried to right himself, still off-balance from his impromptu attack.
“ Alive ,” reminded the man in the red cloak.
Kendril felt a warning bell go off in his head. He jerked his head back around.
As silently as a cat, Abid had come up just behind him. He was still smiling.
Breathing hard, Kendril jumped to his feet and turned to attack. He already knew he couldn’t make it.
With a blow like a falling hammer, the hilt of Abid’s scimitar smashed into Kendril’s face.
The world flashed to white, swirled into purple, then went black.
Chapter 2
The house was on fire, the smoke churning up in a black pillar into the gray sky above.
A woman stood out in the field nearby, weeping hysterically. She huddled a squawking infant to her. Another small boy clutched at her leg.
The sound of breaking glass and crashing furniture came from just outside the house. Hens clucked angrily as they ran about the yard, trying to avoid the soldiers who raced around after them.
There were at least a dozen men, Joseph figured. Cavalry troopers, all armed with pistols and swords. The sergeant in command didn’t seem too concerned about keeping any kind of order amongst the men. They were ransacking the house and the whole yard, carrying off food, clothing, and valuables.
It was like that in war. Enter a foreign country, and even the most genteel of men could become an animal. These men were probably starving, and tired of long cold months of fighting here in Valmingaard.
Joseph shifted position, his hand on the stock of his wheel-lock carbine. Not that the weapon would do him much good, if it came down to a fight. He was a terrible mark as it was with a firearm, and he only had one shot.
Those troopers would ride him down in a heartbeat if they realized he was here.
The woman was still weeping. The little boy wasn’t crying. He just stared in awe as the foreign soldiers ransacked his family home.
The sergeant shouted something to the troopers. It seemed half-hearted at best. A rebuke? More orders?
Joseph peered over the edge of the embankment he was lying on. His wide-brimmed hat was pulled down against the constant drizzle.
The woman was young, and comely. Joseph couldn’t see any sign of a husband.
He could only hope the soldiers hadn’t killed him.
The troopers were Kalinglanders. Joseph could tell by their lack of uniform, the sorry nags they rode, and the round fur hats each of them wore.
One of them came around the corner of the burning house, and glanced in Joseph’s direction.
Joseph ducked, his breath wisping out white in the chill air. After a long second he risked a glance over the rise again.
There was no change, no shout of alarm or cry of surprise.
In the middle of the lawn the soldiers were busy breaking apart a chest of drawers.
The woman was wailing continually.
Joseph wished she would just still her tongue. What did she think she would accomplish? He hoped with all his heart that the Kalinglanders weren’t intending to turn on her next.
If he had still been a praying man, he might have murmured something to Eru on her behalf.
Joseph glanced back behind him at the woods beside the road. There, just inside the dripping leaves and wet trees was Joseph's horse, just out of sight of the farmhouse.
If they turned on the woman, what would he do? What could he do? One man against a dozen was suicidal odds. Kendril might have tried it perhaps, but—
Joseph gave his head a violent shake. He didn’t want to think about Kendril right now.
He couldn’t take on all the troopers by himself. The thought was ludicrous.
But he couldn’t just sit and watch, either.
The woman kept crying.
One of the Kalinglanders shouted something at her.
Listen
Kendril turned, half-rising.
An emboldened sailor was almost on top of him, a cutlass held in his sweaty hand.
Kendril lunged forward. He swiped his sword at the sailor’s knees.
The man dodged back with a frightened yelp.
Kendril tried to right himself, still off-balance from his impromptu attack.
“ Alive ,” reminded the man in the red cloak.
Kendril felt a warning bell go off in his head. He jerked his head back around.
As silently as a cat, Abid had come up just behind him. He was still smiling.
Breathing hard, Kendril jumped to his feet and turned to attack. He already knew he couldn’t make it.
With a blow like a falling hammer, the hilt of Abid’s scimitar smashed into Kendril’s face.
The world flashed to white, swirled into purple, then went black.
Chapter 2
The house was on fire, the smoke churning up in a black pillar into the gray sky above.
A woman stood out in the field nearby, weeping hysterically. She huddled a squawking infant to her. Another small boy clutched at her leg.
The sound of breaking glass and crashing furniture came from just outside the house. Hens clucked angrily as they ran about the yard, trying to avoid the soldiers who raced around after them.
There were at least a dozen men, Joseph figured. Cavalry troopers, all armed with pistols and swords. The sergeant in command didn’t seem too concerned about keeping any kind of order amongst the men. They were ransacking the house and the whole yard, carrying off food, clothing, and valuables.
It was like that in war. Enter a foreign country, and even the most genteel of men could become an animal. These men were probably starving, and tired of long cold months of fighting here in Valmingaard.
Joseph shifted position, his hand on the stock of his wheel-lock carbine. Not that the weapon would do him much good, if it came down to a fight. He was a terrible mark as it was with a firearm, and he only had one shot.
Those troopers would ride him down in a heartbeat if they realized he was here.
The woman was still weeping. The little boy wasn’t crying. He just stared in awe as the foreign soldiers ransacked his family home.
The sergeant shouted something to the troopers. It seemed half-hearted at best. A rebuke? More orders?
Joseph peered over the edge of the embankment he was lying on. His wide-brimmed hat was pulled down against the constant drizzle.
The woman was young, and comely. Joseph couldn’t see any sign of a husband.
He could only hope the soldiers hadn’t killed him.
The troopers were Kalinglanders. Joseph could tell by their lack of uniform, the sorry nags they rode, and the round fur hats each of them wore.
One of them came around the corner of the burning house, and glanced in Joseph’s direction.
Joseph ducked, his breath wisping out white in the chill air. After a long second he risked a glance over the rise again.
There was no change, no shout of alarm or cry of surprise.
In the middle of the lawn the soldiers were busy breaking apart a chest of drawers.
The woman was wailing continually.
Joseph wished she would just still her tongue. What did she think she would accomplish? He hoped with all his heart that the Kalinglanders weren’t intending to turn on her next.
If he had still been a praying man, he might have murmured something to Eru on her behalf.
Joseph glanced back behind him at the woods beside the road. There, just inside the dripping leaves and wet trees was Joseph's horse, just out of sight of the farmhouse.
If they turned on the woman, what would he do? What could he do? One man against a dozen was suicidal odds. Kendril might have tried it perhaps, but—
Joseph gave his head a violent shake. He didn’t want to think about Kendril right now.
He couldn’t take on all the troopers by himself. The thought was ludicrous.
But he couldn’t just sit and watch, either.
The woman kept crying.
One of the Kalinglanders shouted something at her.
Listen
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