Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (top novels of all time TXT) 📗

I said. My intention is not to offend, but Elena broke her oath and failed in her trust. There can be no greater sin for one of the Anath’Meridum,” the big man replied coolly.

“So you would rather she had stayed and died? That I had died with them? Is that it?”

“It is not my place to judge such matters. She failed and now we face possible war as Gododdin maneuvers to get their hands upon an unbound wizard.” Cyhan’s face might as well have been carved from stone as he spoke.

“For someone who trains elite bodyguards you seem to feel it would be better for me to be dead.” I was angry but I kept my emotions in check.

“You clearly do not understand the Anath’Meridum,” the warrior replied.

“You don’t understand the first thing about me,” I shot back.

“You are angry because I said your mother was a failure. Yet if you examine yourself better you may understand some of my feeling. Your friend stands before you, and yet he has become something very close to what the Anath’Meridum are meant to prevent. Can you still trust him when you know he bears a being within him that hungers to possess you? Has he not failed you in much the same way?” He spoke calmly, which only drove the spike into my heart that much more painfully.

“You arrogant bastard!” I had lost it. Without thinking I drove my fist at him. At close distance and with little warning even someone like me should have connected... but I didn’t. Without seeming to move the warrior turned slightly and my fist found only air. With a smile he caught my elbow and his other hand came up to push my shoulder. A few seconds later I was looking up at him from the ground.

“If you want to attack me magic would be a better course of action. Your anger does you no good service.” His words mocked me without emotion.

“Like hell,” I said and swept my legs across to knock his feet out from under him, at least that was the plan. He was ready for it and rather than let me sweep his legs he leapt upward and toward me. As he came down he drove his right boot into my midsection, even with my shield I felt the force of it. He had meant to drive the wind from my lungs.

Marcus had never been one to stand idly by, when he saw Cyhan’s foot hit my belly he stepped up to defend me. He moved gracefully, like a natural boxer, one hand lashing out to strike the bigger man in the stomach. Being quick he almost landed the punch, but the older warrior was quicker, bringing one hand down he knocked Marc’s jab out of line. I rolled out from under his feet as they began trading blows. Marc was quick, he had always been a natural athlete but he was no match for the older veteran.

They ducked and wove for several long seconds, neither seeming to have an advantage, till Cyhan brought his leg up for a swift kick. Marc’s hand instinctively went down to guard his midsection and he turned to avoid it, as he did Cyhan’s right hand rushed forward to slam into his temple. He dropped like a felled oak.

I had not been idle, regaining my feet I rushed my foe from behind. With his attention firmly fixed on Marc he should not have known I was coming, yet somehow he anticipated me. Twisting Cyhan spun and I passed through where he had been standing. He didn’t let me go peacefully by however; he caught the back of my shirt as I went by and lending force to my rush he sent me headfirst into the building that stood by the gate. Despite my shield I almost went unconscious as I rammed into the stone face first. If it had not been for my protection I might have broken my neck. I wound up dazed and lying on the ground. Woozy, it appeared to me as if two or three separate Penelope’s were attacking at least two giant men with large walking sticks. Maybe that was my staff? It was hard to tell, I was seeing double and my vision was blurry.

Wallace had jumped into the fray as well, sword in hand. Cyhan took the sword out of his hands as though he were a child and sent the guardsman down with a simple palm strike. Using the sword he blocked Penny’s next swing of the staff. “Time for the lessons to begin,” he said smoothly.

“Go to hell! You’re just an over-sized bully!” Penny drove the end of my staff at his midsection like a spear but he stepped into it, letting the tip slide by him. Running the sword up along the length of it Penny was forced to drop the staff suddenly, that or lose some fingers. She swung at him with her fist as she let go. You have to admire the spirit of a girl like that.

Cyhan released the sword to fall beside the staff and idly brushed her punch aside. Almost without trying he slapped her across the face with his open palm. I saw her head whip to the side as she reeled from the blow. I was trying to rise but my legs seemed to be made of jelly and I struggled just to stay conscious. Marc seemed to be out cold.

Penny wasn’t giving up. She bore a large red hand print on one cheek, but she wouldn’t quit. Growling she swung at the burly warrior again. Moving lightly on his feet he let her fist glide past and slapped her again. “Good! You have spirit, I was afraid you’d be a shrinking violet,” he taunted her.

They had several more exchanges of blows. Well that might be too dignified a way of putting it. She swung at him and he slapped her... repeatedly. Every time she closed she caught another