The Netheron Chronicles - Joseph Black (best ebook reader ubuntu TXT) 📗

that would now wait for husbands, fathers, and sons that would never return. . .
It shocked him that, hardly a week ago, he had been afraid of how he would react to having to kill other living, thinking beings, but that the previous night he had killed those men so easily. He had done what was right in his eyes, and he didn’t regret it, a fact that disturbed him.
T’hune nudged him, snapping him out of his reverie. Rubbing the horse’s velvety black nose, he leaped up onto the saddle, grabbing the reigns and steering them through the thin underbrush and onto the road where Detrick sat astride his massive black racehorse.
Detrick nodded to him, grinning as he always seemed to be, and they turned down the trail without a word and set out on their days journey.
By previous agreement Tauren rode as far ahead of Detrick as he could without losing sight of him, that way they could have as much warning against an ambush as they could, and hopefully, should they be ambushed, only one of them would be surprised, leaving the other to help his companion.
Detrick told him it was standard procedure, and Tauren had agreed, the arrangement making sense to him.
Any person other than Tauren would have begun to drift off in the saddle that day, it was warm and drowsy, and the bare trees seemed to give off a fog of dust in the light breeze that seemed to have an uncanny ability to make one want to sleep.
But not Tauren, he had hunted and roamed Dimwalden forest for his entire life, and he knew that the worst thing you could do was fall asleep in the forest, if you did, chances where against you living through your first night.
Should you would wake up, you would be lost, and it would only be a matter of time before you became weak enough for the other hunters of the forest to take you down.
But chances were that you would be dead and eaten long before you awoke.
On top of it all was the silence in the forest that he had noticed the day before, the lack of life, and the feeling of foreboding, as though something where looming above them, awaiting to descend and destroy them. It gave him an uncomfortable edge.
It was an edge that saved his life.
They had only been riding for a couple of hours.
Looking behind him, Tauren saw Detrick dozing off in the saddle, trusting his horse to carry him where he needed to go; he sighed and returned to scanning the surrounding forest, littered with mossy fallen trees and thick underbrush.
His senses where all doing their fair share in the work, all in tune as he had trained them, his ears listening for even the smallest out of place sound, his eyes constantly searching for anything that he felt shouldn’t be there, and even smelling for anything wrong.
He saw something out of place the instant it came into sight, it was the shine of bright sun on burnished steel plates, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was a man lying behind the huge mossy log, waiting to surprise them.
He almost stopped T’hune, but quickly decided that if he did the ambushers would notice that he had noticed them, and then they would attack them, however should he keep going as he was then he could ambush them. . .
His heart beat faster as he casually straightened his sword, getting the handle out from under a flap of the saddle, and tightened his grip on his bow in his lap.
He noticed the mistake in his plan when he was only twenty yards from the huge mossy pine lying beside the trail, Detrick didn’t know –
His thoughts where cut short as flicker of movement in his peripheral vision on both side caught his eye, and two arrows whistled by his head, missing only because he had stopped T’hune for an instant.
His heart missed a beat, but he recovered quickly.
He cursed violently under his breath then, turning, he yelled with all his might.” DETRICK!”
Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he spun back around, whipping an arrow onto the string of his bow and loosing it at the men who had just shot at him.
There was a strangled cry and the man on his right fell backward with an arrow through his neck.
In a fight with professional soldiers, the best thing a non-professional warrior could do was to act with all possible speed. Tauren knew that a single moment’s hesitation would be the end of him, and his opponents would break through his guard and kill him with as much impunity as he killed them; less.
He let himself fall into the ‘feel’ for fighting, that he got into when in a fight, a bloodlust, a want to kill, and a feeling of peace that seemed to make time slow down, that seemed to sharpen his senses and make it so his muscles responded with ten times their normal speed.
The man on his left was good, he admitted to himself, but Tauren had been practicing with a bow for almost every one of his waking hours, priming his skill to perfect pitch.
Any brigand or robber would have dropped their bow and run when they saw their companion shot dead so easily by a cloaked figure, even though he appeared to be no more than a boy, and a young one at that.
But not this man, he was a tall grizzled warrior, lightly armored, and quick on his feet, obviously picked for the job of taking down well guarded messengers.
The instant Tauren released his first response to their ambush, he snapped off one last shot, and then swung a shield off of his back to stop any more arrows, and drew his thick short sword.
Tauren cursed violently as he saw three more warriors come running out from deeper in the woods to support their companions, he tossed his bow to the side, knowing it was practically useless against their armor and shields, and drew his sword.
He knew that if he got into a fight with any one of these men that could only end in the death of the least experienced swordsman, he would lose. He was no stronger or faster than these men, and he was certainly less experienced and skilled.
He used his biggest advantage, surprise.
Turning T’hune he charged the man who had just dropped his bow and as he rode by him released a heavy downward stroke, hoping to use the force of the trotting horse and all of his strength to crush the other man’s guard.
The man sidestepped and Tauren went flying past him.
Vaguely he saw Detrick charge for the three men approaching him from behind, and he mentally thanked his new friend for being there for him, but he concentrated on his fight for now.
He spun around in the saddle and jumped off of T’hune, the horse may have been an advantage but he was confident that he could take down this man without getting T’hune in danger.
The man waited for him easily, his hard grey eyes never leaving his opponent.
Don’t ever do what they expect; surprise is your best advantage against an experienced warrior. He heard Edrin say to him in his head.
He sighed mentally, and followed the orders without thinking, flipping his sword to his left hand he reached out and twisting a branch off of a fallen pine threw it, end over end, straight for the other man’s chest.
It wasn’t really supposed to do anything, but it surprised him, none the less.
He took his quick gate of surprise and slammed his sword into the other man’s own weapon with every ounce of his force. But it didn’t go as expected though, his fingers went numb and he felt the sword fall from his fingers from the force of the blow, but the other man’s sword was smashed from his grasp as well, and they stood facing each other for a moment before one of them reacted.
The man gave a grunt and dropped his shield whipping out a dagger, and, faster than sight, slashing for Taurens throat, but Tauren, just as fast, pulled out his thick, heavy hunting knife and blocked the strike.
Tauren felt his heart beat faster, this wasn’t going well, it was going the exact opposite of what he had planned actually.
He parried a couple more strikes but knew he wasn’t going to win if he kept up as he was; the other man was just too skilled.
Just as the thought went through his mind the other man slammed his armored fist into Taurens chest, and Tauren fell back, the knife falling from his grasp; stunned.
He looked up through his hazy vision, and saw the man, dagger raised over his chest, ready to end his life, fear washed through him, and anger. He didn’t want to disappoint Edrin like this. . .
But fate had other plans for Tauren, for the man standing over him gave one surprised cry, glanced up, and was separated from his head by the massive battle axe an instant later.
Detrick held out a hand, looking a bit worried, and helped Tauren to his feet. ”You okay?” He asked.
He looked around, a few yards away lay the three warriors Detrick had fought, dead, and beside them lay the man whom he had shot at first, right at his feet was the truncated body of his would be killer, lying there in a spreading pool of blood, soaking into the brown leaves. Nausea rushed up in him, but he held himself.” I’m fine” He answered shortly.
He had almost died.
This isn’t enough, he said to himself, if I’m going to survive in this world I have to know more, fight harder, and be better . . . otherwise I’ll end up like them.
It’s like that in every world, he growled bitterly to himself, and turned away.
Detrick laid a hand on his shoulder and nodded solemnly too him.” It’s okay, you’ll be fine.”
Tauren nodded in answer, feeling strangely grateful to his companion.
“We should get going here; this is only half of a Squad.” Detrick stated, after a few moments.” The rest of them can’t be far.”
Tauren sighed, an idea forming in his mind, and leaped up onto T’hune who had stood patiently by during the whole fight.” Let’s go then.”
They seemed to both agree not to loot their