Avalyne Series 02: The Easterling by Linda Thackeray Page B

than any ever crafted by men or elf, the dwarf blade tore through flesh and bone, finding little resistance in the thick hide that contained them. Melia flinched as she saw the spray of dark blood.
    The ogre uttered a guttural sound of agony before he tumbled forward, landing on the ground with heavy thud as Aeron stepped out of his path. Upon collapsing, the creature sent a cloud of dust up in the air while his blood created a pool of slick, darkness beneath him. Face down, against the dirt, he moved no more but the Prince was far from done.
    Melia watched as Aeron strode purposefully towards the second ogre who was still occupied with removing the arrow in his back. The Prince’s eyes were no longer blue but almost black, like the blood dripping form his sword. Melia followed him, picking up his long bow because her own crossbow would do little against the ogre’s hide. She ripped an arrow from the creature’s dead comrade and shadowed Aeron, in case he needed the help.
    She did not think he would need it.
    After their playful flirtations , it was difficult to believe that this handsome Prince was a thousand years old and had fought more battles than she could possibly imagine. In Eden Halas, he had hunted spiders and during the Shadow War, led the elves to Astaroth. As she saw the glare in his eyes as he stalked his enemy, she could well imagine him as the battle hardened warrior. Especially after he delivered the killing blow.
    The ogre’s head came away from its body, spinning in mid air before landing in the fire, trailing embers as it rolled over the charred wood and across the ground. Melia turned away from the grisly scene because no matter how much she thought she was inured to things, carnage still had the power to make her flinch. Aeron exhaled deeply after the body of the ogre fell, displacing leaves and dirt when it landed. The strength that had carried him this far faltered and he sank to his knees again, the sword falling from his hand.
    No sooner than he had sunk to his knees was Melia on the move.  She hobbled towards him, not realizing until now that her hard landing had twisted her ankle badly and it ached as she tried to walk. She knew that she was probably sporting a large bruise on the side of her face but it seemed incidental to the fact that his face had contorted into a grimace of pain. Melia remembered the sound of bone breaking under the shield and knew that it was possible that he was seriously injured. His manner certainly indicated it.
    ‘ You're hurt,’ she lowered herself next to him, clutching his arm to keep him from landing on his face.
    ‘ Not badly,’ he lied.
    ‘ Fool!’ she snapped at him. ‘You are in agony! I see can see it in that face of yours. Now move your arm and let me look.’
    Aeron reluctantly allowed her to pull open his tunic and hissed in discomfort when the cold night made contact with his sensitive skin. He knew he was not severely injured but he was in pain. The ogre’s shield was made to break bones and bearing the brunt of it had certainly earned him a few breaks. He knew he was careless in letting the creature come up behind him but at the time, all he could think about was Melia.
    All rational thought had fled his mind in the desperate attempt to save her with Aeron understanding most intimately why Arianne had crossed the Frozen Mountains to face Syphia herself. The idea of her own safety had become secondary in comparison her love for Dare and the same compulsion drove Aeron when he charged to Melia’s rescue. How could he think about his life when hers might be lost? He had lived a thousand years, long enough to experience life with its infinite possibilities. In comparison, hers had hardly begun and he could not endure the thought of it ending before it had really began.
    Or more correctly, before they had even begun.
    ‘ You have broken bones,’ Melia announced unhappily as she examined his side and saw the discoloration of his pale skin. She had