The Gift of Battle by Morgan Rice Page B

Kendrick and Kaden were soon completely surrounded.
    Kendrick was
losing strength, his shoulders tiring, when suddenly, he saw the creatures
begin to fall and heard a great battle cry from behind them. Kendrick was
elated to see Koldo, Ludvig, Brandt, and Atme break through the lines, killing
creatures in every direction. Encouraged, Kendrick fought back, making one last
push, Kaden by his side. The six of them, fighting together, were unstoppable,
felling all of the creatures.
    Kendrick stood
there in the silence, breathing hard on the desert sand, taking stock; he could
hardly believe what they had just done. All around them were the piled up
carcasses of the beasts, sprawled out in various directions, the sand red with
blood. He and the others were covered in wounds, scratched up—but they all
stood there, alive. And Kaden, grinning from ear to ear, was free.
    Kaden reached
out and embraced each one of them, one by one, starting with Kendrick, looking
at him meaningfully. He saved his final embrace for Koldo, his eldest brother,
and Koldo hugged him back, his black skin rippling in the sky.
    “I can’t believe
you came for me,” Kaden said.
    “You’re my
brother,” Koldo said. “Where else would I be?”
    Kendrick heard a
sound and looked over and saw the six horses these creatures had kidnapped, all
tied to a rope together—and he and the others exchanged knowing glances.
    As one, they all
rushed over and mounted the beasts, each barely seated before they dug in their
heels and prodded the beasts onward, back into the Waste, all heading back to
the Ridge, back, finally, to home.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
     
     
    Erec stood at
the stern of his ship, taking up the rear of his fleet, and checked back over
his shoulder once again with anxiety. On the one hand, he was relieved that
they had managed to wipe out that Empire village, to fork back up the river
toward Volusia, toward Gwendolyn; on the other hand, he had paid a dear price,
not just in lost men, but in lost time—he had wiped out whatever lead they’d
had on the remainder of the Empire fleet. As he glanced back, he saw them
following, way too close, snaking their way upriver, but a few hundred yards
away, sailing the black and gold banners of the Empire. He had lost his day’s
lead on them, and they now followed him furiously, like a hornet chasing its
prey, their superior ships, better manned, getting ever closer with each gust
of wind.
    Erec turned back
and checked the horizon. He knew from his scouts that Volusia lay just beyond
the bend somewhere—yet, at the rate at which the Empire was closing the gap, he
wondered if his small fleet would reach it in time. He was starting to realize
that if they did not make it in time, they would have to turn around and make a
stand—and that was a stand, so vastly outnumbered, they could not win.
    Erec heard a
sound that raised the hairs on the back of his neck, and he turned and looked
up to see a sight which left him with a cold dread: a wave of Empire arrows had
been unleashed, and they now sailed through the air, blackening the sky,
heading, in a high arc, for his fleet. Erec braced himself and watched with
relief as the first volley landed in the water all around him, perhaps twenty
yards from his ship, the sound of arrows hitting water sounding like heavy
raindrops.
    “ARROWS!” Erec
yelled, warning his men to take cover.
    Most of them
did, and not a moment too soon. Another volley soon followed, these shot by
crossbows with a further range, and Erec watched, horrified, as one reached the
deck of his ship and one of his soldiers yelled out. Erec turned to see it
sticking through his leg, pierced by a random arrow, the only one with a range
just far enough to hit.
    Erec felt a
flush of indignation—and of urgency. The Empire was within range; too soon they
would be overtaken, and with the Empire’s fleet of thousands of ships, there
was simply no way Erec’s men could outfight them. Erec knew he had to