Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II by Hodges, Aaron (good english books to read .txt) 📗

“Shouldn’t have come at all,” the spy hissed. “She’s a God—”

There was an audible thump as something hard connected with flesh, followed by strained gasping. Romaine imagined the spy bent in two, struggling to breathe through winded lungs. Why he objected to Cara being a Goddess was still not clear. Romaine shared a glance with Lorene, and carefully they crept closer.

“Listen here, you little bastard,” Yasin’s voice came again. “Queen Amina doesn’t care about your superstitions. You’ll do what you’re told.”

The wheezing continued for another moment before the voice rose in soft defiance. “Please…”

The crunch of stones beneath boots followed as one of the men shifted his feet, though this time there was no sound of blows being exchanged.

“Look, lad,” Yasin said, sounding reasonable again. “I understand. You’ve found yourself caught up in the workings of monarchs and Gods. I’m trying to help you, but you need to do your part.”

“But I don’t want any part of this!” the spy gasped.

An audible sigh came from Yasin. “You should try not to think so much, you could catch your death.” There was a long pause at the threat. Romaine glanced at Lorene, but Yasin went on before either could speak. “Or perhaps you think the Goddess will save you?” Yasin chuckled. “She is not all-powerful, my friend, nor all-knowing. Perhaps she could save you from me, if I chose to spare your life just now. But if I do not return, things will go poorly for your wife and daughter. I hear the queen sent old Skheller to accompany em. Just between you and me, the man’s not particularly sane. Certainly not someone I would like minding my loved ones.”

Romaine’s blood turned to ice at Yasin’s words. Their spy was not loyal to the queen at all. Her people had gotten to his family, were threatening to harm them if he didn’t obey. Images flickered in his mind, of his wife’s face, pale in death, of his son lying frozen in the snow. Slowly his hand dropped to his sword hilt. Steel hissed on leather as he dragged the blade free.

“Romaine,” Lorene hissed as he stepped from the boulders, “Romaine, wait!”

It was already too late. At the movement, Yasin had spun to face them. His eyes narrowed as he saw the blade in Romaine’s hand.

“That’s enough, Yasin,” he said quietly. Footsteps came from behind him as Lorene followed, though Romaine didn’t risk a glance back. Yasin had his crossbow in hand, a steel bolt loaded in place. A second man dressed in the dull yellow of Gemaho stood beside the queen’s man, eyes wide in fright. The two stood close together on the slope, though behind them the earth abruptly fell away, the moonlight rocks turning to empty darkness.

“Calafe,” Yasin said softly. “What are you doing out here?”

“Let the man go,” Romaine said coldly, hand tight around his sword hilt. “He’s done his part.”

Stones crunched as Lorene moved alongside him. He too held naked steel in his hand. Yasin’s eyes flickered to the scout before returning to Romaine.

“Relax, the both of you,” Yasin replied, gesturing with the crossbow. “Our good friend here is just helping us out with your little Goddess. He’s going make sure she doesn’t get hurt amidst all the bloodshed.”

Beside him, the spy seemed to pale at Yasin’s words. Romaine took another step towards them.

“I said, let him go,” he repeated. “I’ll not work with anyone who threatens a child.” He lifted the shield strapped to his left arm and slid into a fighting stance.

“Just do what he says, Yasin,” Lorene said softly. “No one needs to get hurt here.”

The queen’s man chuckled at that. “Is that so?” he asked. Then the smile slid from his lips. “And by what right do you command me to do anything, Flumeeren? I am here on the orders of Queen Amina. Your queen, last I checked. Or are you declaring yourself a traitor, soldier?

Lorene faltered, then bared his teeth. “I stand with Romaine.”

A strained silence followed as the three of them stood facing one another. The helpless spy shrank away from the conflict, but Romaine only tightened his grip on the sword. He knew Yasin’s kind. The man was a killer—he would not back down from a fight—

“Oh, very well,” Yasin said suddenly. Letting out a sigh, he lowered the crossbow. “Have it your way.”

Romaine blinked, still staring at the man, unable to understand his sudden capitulation. He glanced at Lorene, but the scout seemed just as confused by the sudden turn of events.

Twang.

Before either of them could react, a crossbow bolt materialised in Lorene’s chest. The man staggered slightly at the impact, his eyes falling to the projectile. A frown crossed his forehead and belatedly he lifted a hand to the arrow, as though confused as to how it had gotten there. Before he could touch it, though, the strength fled his legs and he crumpled to the ground without a sound.

For a second, Romaine stood staring at the body of his friend. Lorene didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even groan. He just lay against the stone, sword still clutched in a pale hand.

Laughter carried across the slope to Romaine. “You just going to stand there for me, Calafe?” The question was followed by the slow racketing sound of the crossbow being reloaded.

A scream tore from Romaine’s throat and suddenly he was rushing across the broken stones, sword raised, eyes fixed on the killer. He might have lost his hand, but he was still Calafe. He would not allow his friend to die unavenged.

Yasin grinned as Romaine rushed towards him. Without time to finish reloading the crossbow, he tossed it aside and dragged his sword from its scabbard.

“That a boy,” he hissed. “Let’s see whether the last soldier of Calafe has any fight left in him.”

Romaine’s answer was to attack. Muscles rippling across his shoulders, he sent a wild swing slashing for his foe’s face. Laughing, Yasin leapt aside, landing easily on the loose stone. His