The Sworn Knight by Robert Ryan (romance book recommendations TXT) 📗

The elù-drak was swift though. She dodged to the side,avoiding the tip of his sword, and came at him from an angle. He retreated,nearly tripping in his haste. But somehow he got his blade between the two ofthem, and she paused.

He was no match for her. She was too fast, and would haveprobably been so in his youth. He had practiced little with the blade theselast few years, and his skill had fallen away from him like leaves off anautumnal tree in the first gale of winter.

What could he do? Nothing. He would die here, but he woulddo so with dignity. He would be no thrall to her magic, and if he could, hewould take her with him.

He drew his dagger, so that if she got past the sword, whichshe would, even as he died he would stab her. Perhaps it would be a mortalblow, and perhaps not. But he would likely only get one chance.

Yet the dagger was long, and he saw her wicked gaze fall toit. She had read his mind, and her eagerness had lessened. But in the end, itwould not stop her. It would only make her more careful.

Menendil decided on something. While she hesitated, it wastime for him to act. It was an old lesson from his army days. Do what the enemyexpects least, especially when you are outmatched.

He lunged toward her, this time not stabbing but slashing ina narrow range of movement, always keeping the sword between them and neveroverextending.

She seemed surprised, and she rose up slightly in the air asher wings beat rapidly, but she avoided him with ease and landed some distanceaway.

Menendil slowed, now stepping forward with careful steps,stalking her as she had stalked him only moments before.

She tilted her head and gazed at him, her tongue slidingacross her lips.

“Come to me, little man,” she said. “You are a worthy opponent.I will reward you. Kneel before me. Worship me, and you will live. I promiseit.”

Menendil felt his legs go weak. He knew it was her magic atwork, and he knew she would kill him despite her words, but the force of herwill was overpowering.

He was not sure what he would have done. The strength of herwill was like a wave washing over him, but the burning desire to live was justas strong. He stood, trembling and uncertain, the sword in his hand nearlyforgotten.

But suddenly the force of her will was gone, and she turnedher head to the side. Even as she did so, a blast of fire washed over her, and Caludrethcame running, sword in hand and attacked her.

Abruptly free of indecision, Menendil also attacked. Even asthe creature turned away from him to face the greater threat, he drove hissword into her.

It was not a killing blow. His thrust was not well directed,and it took her at the top of her hip and careered off the bone. Yet still shescreamed, and her eyes flashed hatred at him like fiery daggers.

That was a mistake, for she took her eyes off Caludreth, andhis blow was better. It was aimed at her neck, intended to sever her head fromher body. But at the last moment her wings rose and the elbow joint cameforward as she twisted. The blow hit her there, and then skidded to strike thetop of her head.

The elù-drak swayed, made dizzy by the force of the blow.Menendil struck again, trying to do what Caludreth had attempted, anddecapitate her, but she ducked and rolled, coming to her feet some distanceaway, and then with a beat of her wings lifted skyward.

She was safe from swords, but not from magic. A streak offire burst forth again, and it took her in the head. Her hair caught fire, andwith a scream and great beats of her wings she rose swiftly high above thesquare and disappeared behind some buildings.

Menendil did not look at Caludreth. His eyes flickeredtoward the soldiers. They remained some distance away, unsure if the creaturewould come back. But their leader turned to them and seemed about to give asignal to attack.

Caludreth raised both arms, the sword in one. But it was nota gesture designed for fighting. Truly, Menendil thought, the arts of theknights were wonderous.

Fog rose from the cobbles, and swirled toward the soldiers.They backed away, and even as they did so the whole square seemed to fill with mistdeeper and thicker than Menendil had ever seen.

He looked at Caludreth in amazement, but he saw the knightwas swaying. Swiftly he went to him and put an arm around his shoulder tosteady him. Whatever marvelous skills he possessed, they did not come withoutcost.

Awkwardly, the once-knight sheathed his blade. “We have tohurry,” he said. “The fog won’t last long.”

They hastened away then, each supporting the other. But Caludrethseemed to gain strength at every step, and he needed no more help by the timethey passed through the street that Menendil had hoped to use earlier.

The fog disappeared quickly too. It must still fill thesquare, but Caludreth had not conjured it over a wide area. Here, the night wasclear, and the sky was open above.

They crossed another street quickly, then headed through analley. Back and forth they zigzagged, making sure that there was no chance theycould be run down. But soon they slowed. Two factors asserted themselves.

The first was that there was no sound of pursuit. They hadevaded the soldiers. That should have brought relief, but the second becamemore urgent. Now that they had no need to hasten so much, they had more time tothink of the elù-drak.

“Do you think she’ll leave us alone?” Menendil asked.

Caludreth knew exactly who he meant. “Not her. She was hurt,but not killed. Those things are very hard to kill. Very, very hard. She’s outthere somewhere, and the pain I inflicted would have receded. No doubt, she’salready looking for us again.”

It was not reassuring, but Menendil felt almost safe in theother man’s presence. Between them both, and the magic the once-knight possessed,they might survive an attack.

They turned another corner, and now they were getting