Wrath of Lions Read Free Page A

losses.”
    Clovis’s sickening grin grew ever wider. “You have remained loyal, have you? Loyalty requires sacrifice, and you have sacrificed
nothing
. When your god asked for every able-bodied man to join the ranks of his army in preparation for the coming war, did you offer your son to the cause?” He turned in his saddle, addressing the townsfolk who had huddled in fear behind the soldiers. “Did any of you? Of all of Neldar’s provinces, Erznia stood alone in her defiance. Not a single young man has joined the holy ranks, not a single woman has offered her services as a seamstress or nursemaid. You all huddled in your guarded forest, living apartfrom the god who created you. You dare call this loyalty?” Clovis spat on the ground. Magister Wentner tried to argue but was quickly shouted down. “I think not. The Mori family has disgraced our Lord, as has every other soul within these walls. Karak is the God of Order, and his ways are fair. You have turned your backs on your god, and so he has turned his back on you. May you all find forgiveness in the afterlife…if forgiveness is to be had for such cowardly scum.”
    At the Highest’s command, a row of archers stepped forward, leveled their bows, and fired on those standing on the manor’s lawn. Oris could only watch as pointed shafts buried themselves in his wife, Magister Wentner, and Yenge. Ebbe attempted to shield Conata and Zeppa with her own body, but arrow after arrow embedded in her back until she collapsed. Their daughters suffered the same fate; Zeppa, all of seven, received a bolt in the neck, and nine-year-old Conata was pierced through the back of the head as she attempted to flee. An agonized roar forced its way through Oris’s clenched lips, but it was drowned out by the bloodcurdling shrieks of the gathered crowd.
    Still, Oris did not advance. Releasing Caleigh, he whirled around and grabbed Alexander by the shoulders. The young man’s eyes were rimmed with tears, and his body was quaking uncontrollably.
    “Listen to me!” Oris shouted at him. “Leave now! Take your sister and go. Climb the wall and head east, across the river. Few live there, and there is a chance you might make it to the coast unharmed. Ask for favors—beg if you must—but stay alive. Do you understand?”
    Alexander stared dumbly ahead.
    “Do you understand?”
he screamed, shaking the young man by the shoulders.
    Slowly Alexander’s eyes came to focus on his, and he nodded his understanding. Oris pulled his nephew into a tight embrace, then removed the shortsword from Alexander’s belt.
    “You won’t be needing this,” he said, handing over his own dagger in its stead. “It will only slow you down. The smaller the blade, the better. Now go.”
    Alexander took the dagger in one hand, snatched Caleigh’s wrist with the other, and sprinted away. Oris watched them go, ignoring the clang of steel from the area beyond the wood as he waited until the two youngsters had distanced themselves before revealing himself.
    He counted to twenty, grief and wrath causing him to bounce on his heels as he gripped the shortsword with both scarred hands. Then he turned sharply and barreled through the overgrowth. Twigs snapped and brittle branches slapped his disfigured face as he leapt out of cover and into the open.
    It was a massacre. The soldiers had turned on the populace, murdering everyone in sight. Swords and pikes thrust again and again, the blood they spilled creating a pinkish fog. Oris saw Bracken Renson, a man he had known since childhood, have his head split down the middle by an ax. Carlotta Littleton, the woman who had been nursemaid to his children, was gutted by a spear, her body viciously kicked off the shaft once she ceased moving. A sparse few fought back, only to be overwhelmed by the soldiers who had superior training and weapons.
    Bellowing like a wild beast, Oris forced his sore legs to carry him forward. Something sharp pierced his side, but he ignored the