the hut and the surrounding area. When they dismounted and neared the hut, these five massive warriors had attacked. Bentley had barely been able to draw his sword in time before one warrior launched a deadly slice toward him. Ever since, he had been fighting for his life.
Another powerful slice came terrifyingly close, and Bentley ducked. He heard the
swoosh
of his enemy's blade pass just above his head. Bentley initiated another rising cut, but missed and found himself slightly off balance. He knew that such an experienced man of war would capitalize on Bentley's mistake—and he did. The next slice came from Bent-ley's left, and he was only able to raise his sword for partial protection before the grisly blade blasted through his defense.
The concussion on his sword carried on to Bentley's left spaulder and slammed into his helmet. Bentley careened to the right, scrambling in vain to keep his footing, then crashed to the ground.
He knew what would happen next. In seconds, he would feel the steel of his enemy's sword pierce his armor and then his chest. He lifted his sword for protection against the vertical slice, but the edge of the warrior's blade burst through his resistance and into his breastplate. The impact of the blow on his body seemed to force the last of his strength from him. His end was near.
Bentley froze as the warrior lifted his sword high above him for a final downward thrust. His physical exhaustion did not diminish his fearof death in the least. But just as the tip of the warriors sword began its plummet, Bentley heard an unfamiliar yell and watched a wide arcing blade slice across his enemy's torso from behind.
Screaming in pain and frustration, the warrior recoiled and turned on his unknown assailant. Bentley's strength immediately returned, and he rolled away, quickly finding his feet. The warrior was now heavily engaged with a new adversary, one Bentley had never seen before.
Bentley chanced a quick glance about him and realized that four other knights had joined their cause against these massive warriors of destruction. Another glance filled him with shock as he recognized their insignia.
Followers!
The newcomers bore the unmistakable mark of the Stranger. This was the enemy Bentley and his comrades had set out that morning to engage. Yet these men were fighting to save their lives.
Bentley brought his sword to bear along with his unexpected ally against the dark warrior, who was now wounded and searching for an avenue of retreat. Together, they forced the warrior into flight and joined the remaining knights in vanquishing their foes.
When the tips of the swords slowly settled to grassy harbors of rest, only one man had fallen. Bentley and another Noble Knight went to him and began removing his breastplate, for the wound was serious. The other men stood breathing heavily as the rush within their bodies subsided.
Bentley looked up in gratitude toward the man who had wielded sword to help him. “Thank you for your help. We've never faced such men before.”
The Follower nodded in the direction the enemy had fled. “We have. They are enemies of the King.”
“As are ye,” came York's voice from behind. “Drop yer swords.”
Bentley looked up incredulously. “But these men—”
“—are our enemies,” York repeated. “They'll be imprisoned.”
The four Followers looked stunned, then slowly stepped back and away once they determined the burly knight was not bluffing.
Bentley jumped to his feet. “They just saved our lives!”
“Then they be fools as well,” York spat. “Disarm them!”
The other knights looked at one another and then at Bentley. Bentley met their eyes, then knelt back down to his fallen comrade. The delay allowed the Followers to separate themselves, and they ran into the trees of the valley.
“After them!” York commanded.
“Sir!” one of the older knights exclaimed. “Nordan is down and needs immediate treatment. We either help him, or we chase
Another powerful slice came terrifyingly close, and Bentley ducked. He heard the
swoosh
of his enemy's blade pass just above his head. Bentley initiated another rising cut, but missed and found himself slightly off balance. He knew that such an experienced man of war would capitalize on Bentley's mistake—and he did. The next slice came from Bent-ley's left, and he was only able to raise his sword for partial protection before the grisly blade blasted through his defense.
The concussion on his sword carried on to Bentley's left spaulder and slammed into his helmet. Bentley careened to the right, scrambling in vain to keep his footing, then crashed to the ground.
He knew what would happen next. In seconds, he would feel the steel of his enemy's sword pierce his armor and then his chest. He lifted his sword for protection against the vertical slice, but the edge of the warrior's blade burst through his resistance and into his breastplate. The impact of the blow on his body seemed to force the last of his strength from him. His end was near.
Bentley froze as the warrior lifted his sword high above him for a final downward thrust. His physical exhaustion did not diminish his fearof death in the least. But just as the tip of the warriors sword began its plummet, Bentley heard an unfamiliar yell and watched a wide arcing blade slice across his enemy's torso from behind.
Screaming in pain and frustration, the warrior recoiled and turned on his unknown assailant. Bentley's strength immediately returned, and he rolled away, quickly finding his feet. The warrior was now heavily engaged with a new adversary, one Bentley had never seen before.
Bentley chanced a quick glance about him and realized that four other knights had joined their cause against these massive warriors of destruction. Another glance filled him with shock as he recognized their insignia.
Followers!
The newcomers bore the unmistakable mark of the Stranger. This was the enemy Bentley and his comrades had set out that morning to engage. Yet these men were fighting to save their lives.
Bentley brought his sword to bear along with his unexpected ally against the dark warrior, who was now wounded and searching for an avenue of retreat. Together, they forced the warrior into flight and joined the remaining knights in vanquishing their foes.
When the tips of the swords slowly settled to grassy harbors of rest, only one man had fallen. Bentley and another Noble Knight went to him and began removing his breastplate, for the wound was serious. The other men stood breathing heavily as the rush within their bodies subsided.
Bentley looked up in gratitude toward the man who had wielded sword to help him. “Thank you for your help. We've never faced such men before.”
The Follower nodded in the direction the enemy had fled. “We have. They are enemies of the King.”
“As are ye,” came York's voice from behind. “Drop yer swords.”
Bentley looked up incredulously. “But these men—”
“—are our enemies,” York repeated. “They'll be imprisoned.”
The four Followers looked stunned, then slowly stepped back and away once they determined the burly knight was not bluffing.
Bentley jumped to his feet. “They just saved our lives!”
“Then they be fools as well,” York spat. “Disarm them!”
The other knights looked at one another and then at Bentley. Bentley met their eyes, then knelt back down to his fallen comrade. The delay allowed the Followers to separate themselves, and they ran into the trees of the valley.
“After them!” York commanded.
“Sir!” one of the older knights exclaimed. “Nordan is down and needs immediate treatment. We either help him, or we chase
Similar Books
Her Master Returns (Dark BDSM Erotica)
Dan Bruce
The Big Sister
Sally Rippin
A Slow Walk to Hell
Patrick A. Davis
Shade's Fall
Jamie Begley
A Pigeon and a Boy
Meir Shalev
Fathers and Sons
Ivan Turgenev
Liar Moon
Ben Pastor
Deadly Secrets
Jaycee Clark
In the Blood
J. A. Kerley
Vibes
Amy Kathleen Ryan