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

own blade flashed out and Romaine recoiled—though not before the sharp steel opened a cut on his forearm.

“You know, I told the queen,” Yasin murmured, stalking sideways, putting himself on even footing above Romaine. “I told her you were the wrong man for this job. Too sentimental, I said. She was hopeful, though, seemed to think you could bring the Goddess to our side.”

Romaine barely heard him. His mind was on Lorene, lying dead on the mountainside, slain because he’d cared, because he’d wanted to help a friend. Grief swamped Romaine but he pressed it down. On the slope above, Yasin snared down at him, but Romaine fought to calm his rage. He no longer had his axe, was no longer the warrior he’d once been. If he was to defeat the queen’s personal killer, he needed to be smart.

“It’s a shame really…” Yasin was still talking. He slid sideways on the slope, seeking an advantage over Romaine. The Calafe retreated a step, eyeing his foe’s feet. On the treacherous ground, a single misstep could gift him the opening he needed. “Our inside man here tells me your Goddess friend has gotten right and cosy with the Gemaho. Just as Amina feared.”

The words cut through Romaine’s rage. “What?”

The man grinned. “Your little Goddess has betrayed us, Calafe,” he sneered. “No choice now but to put her down. Best thing for everyone, if you ask me. Can’t have Gods going around pretending they’re people. Especially if they side with our enemies.”

Romaine tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword and tried to ignore Yasin’s words. The man could do nothing to harm Cara. She was a God, beyond his power to touch. Wasn’t she? Despite his faith, doubt assailed him. Hadn’t she suffered beneath Erika’s gauntlet, hadn’t the Tangata bruised her, stopped her? What would a crossbow bolt, delivered from the darkness, do to Cara?

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the battle at hand. Yasin would never have the chance to harm his friend. Drawing in a breath, Romaine sought calm, allowing the man’s words to wash over him.

Yasin sighed when his taunts failed to bring a response, then without warning he surged forward, sword lancing for Romaine’s throat. Moonlight flashed from the blade as Romaine skipped back, his shield barely lifting in time to deflect the blow.

Overhead, a cloud slipped across the moon, and Romaine cursed as the world was plunged into darkness. Pain radiated from the slice on his arm and he retreated another step, swinging wildly to deter any attack. To his surprise, the blade connected with a soft thud, though he hadn’t put much power behind the blow.

Light returned as the cloud passed and he watched as Yasin staggered back, clutching his arm. Blood seeped through his jacket, but it didn’t appear to be a bad cut. Cursing, the queen’s man released the wound and hefted his sword.

“You’ll pay for that one.”

Yasin leapt to the attack and Romaine gasped as a blow slipped beneath his guard. The short sword slammed across his chest and only his chainmail prevented it from penetrating. Even so, agony exploded from his injured ribs, and groaning, he staggered back, trying to lift his shield to deflect another blow.

To his surprise, Yasin did not follow. Instead, he smiled. “I’ll admit, you put up a better fight than I expected, Calafe. But it's time for this to end.”

Before Romaine could respond, Yasin lurched forward. Lifting his blade, Romaine tried to counter the attack, but the warrior’s blow was only a feint, and instead Yasin lashed out with his boot. The kick caught Romaine square in the chest and he cried out as the pain redoubled. He staggered backwards, but his foot slipped as the gravel began to give way beneath him.

Too late Romaine realised he’d been manipulated. In his rage at Lorene’s death and in the darkness cast by the cloud, he’d allowed Yasin to direct the battle, swapping their positions. Now he stood at the edge of the ravine he’d spotted earlier. A cry on his lips, he struggled to regain his balance, to claw his way back from the edge.

Laughing, Yasin stepped forward and shoved him hard in the chest.

And Romaine fell into the darkness.

22

The Soldier

The sun dropped below the rooftop, casting the courtyard into shadow. Lukys snarled as he spun the stave, slashing it down into the face of an invisible enemy, then stepping back and throwing up a block to deflect a riposte. Air hissed around the wooden staff with each thrust. Had there really been anyone in the path of his blows they would have broken bones. As it was, Lukys only spun, continuing through the drill Romaine had taught him back in Fogmore.

He had asked Sophia for the stave after their conversation. It had been a surprise when she’d actually brought one, though the guilt in her eyes told him why. It had no spear tip, of course, making it useless as a weapon against the Tangata. But that wasn’t the point.

He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off their conversation, about the truth…

The Tangata are nearly infertile.

Memory of Sophia’s words whispered in his mind and gasping, Lukys leapt, launching an attack that would have impaled his enemy. His feet shifted smoothly through the stances his mentor had spent so long drilling into him. It felt good to be moving through the patterns again, to feel his body fall into the familiar rhythms.

Less and less of our pairings can produce children.

He fought on, teeth bared, spinning and slicing, desperate to fend off the unseen enemies, to forget the words that whispered in his mind. A thrust stabbed one foe through the heart, a kick hurled his corpse away, freeing the imaginary blade.

The Tangata are a dying race, Lukys.

A growl slipped from his lips as he moved forward in a series of thrusts, overhand blows, and blocks.

That is why we must take human partners. The pairings are more…favourable. Without them, our species