Seven Swords by Michael E. Shea (the speed reading book .TXT) 📕
- Author: Michael E. Shea
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Book online «Seven Swords by Michael E. Shea (the speed reading book .TXT) 📕». Author Michael E. Shea
He would be back in control now. He might kill whoever led the second charge. It would ease his own frustration and show strength in a time of weakness.
But what then? They didn’t know how many warriors there were in Fena Dim. Any stories would keep the number small. They wouldn’t attack the same way again. They had the advantage. They could take their time, scout it out, and learn what they could.
A voice broke his concentration. It was Susan in his head. YOU NEED TO COME TO THE CAVES, she spoke. CA’DAAN’S UNCLE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE AND WHY THEY ARE HERE.
Jon looked at San’doro.
“What is it?” said the brown man. Streaks of clean skin crossed the blood that caked him everywhere else.
Something shifted in the shadows behind the man.
Adrin was talking to the Kal and Thorn cleaned his blade with a torn dirty cloth. The shadow shifted again and a gleam of silver slashed in the darkness.
Vrenna’s sword flew end over end, crashing into the wide curved sword of the Reaver. The villain’s blade would have taken off San’doro’s head had it hit. Instead, San’doro had jerked at the sound and it drew a line against his left shoulder blade.
As San’doro spun away, Jon saw the demontouched assassin clearly. He wore black leather armor, a black cloak, and a black cloth over his nose and mouth. His head was shaved and coated in black blood. His black eyes flared in the red moonlight.
Jon drew and fired into the assassin’s face. San’doro fell away, clutching his right ear from the concussion of the blast. Another shadow shifted and Jon drew his other pistol. As he shot, the man twisted away and the bullet tore a hole in his cloak. Jon had only seen two people move that fast in his life; Vrenna and San’doro.
Now the shadows shifted all around them. At least seven more of the assassins surrounded them. One pressed Vrenna hard, swinging his short blade at her throat, stomach and legs. She danced and twisted away but with her own blade thrown, she could do little but run.
Two seemed intent on cutting down Thorn, slashing wildly at his thighs. He held them back with powerful cuts from his own sword. The Kal hammered at one with his war club, putting the wrath of the demontouched assassin on the defensive. Adrin had his rapier and offhand dagger out, parrying the attack of one while another closed in.
Vrenna managed to slip into the attack of the black-garbed killer who attacked her. She punched her palm spike up under the chin of the assassin. Blood spattered to the dirt as she pulled the spike free but the demon fought on. He let the blood pour from the hole in his neck as he cut at her. She sidestepped and kicked the assassin’s knee with her hard boot. Jon heard the man’s kneel crack as he fell. Vrenna snatched the curved sword from his grasp as he fell and cleaved his head in two.
Jon had just managed to reload one pistol when a new shadow broke free and rushed Jon. Jon drew his rapier and twisted, the sharp tip of the sword piercing through the assassin’s armor. It did not slow him. The assassin lunged forward, letting the blade pierce through his back. He raised a wicked heavy jagged sword and swung. Jon barely managed to draw his offhand dagger and parry the blow. The force of the attack numbed his arm.
The assassin closed in, his face up close to Jon’s. Jon smelled rancid breath and saw the insanity in the man’s eyes. This man was not the same as the others they had fought. He was faster, fearless, felt no pain. Like the Voth barbarians drugged on the smoke and liquid poisons of their witches, what stood in front of him was a machine of murder.
The assassin’s forehead smashed in, sending Jon reeling and falling back. Something hot and wet ran down his mouth and chin. His eyes blurred with tears and he tasted iron in the back of his throat.
Jon heard a pistol fire and half the assassin’s face blew apart. Jon stood and saw Adrin in melee with one of the assassins, a smoking gun in his left hand. Adrin had fired left handed and in combat. He far underestimated the boy.
Adrin threw his elbow over the entwined blades in front of him and smashed it in his opponent’s temple. The assassin stepped back, dazed. Adrin spun his rapier and stabbed it through the assassin. He let go of the blade, drew his remaining pistol, and shot the assassin in the head.
Jon heard a cry and saw the Kal reeling from a blow to his wound. He had torn off the assassin’s mask revealing a lipless mouth cut wide across the man’s cheeks filled with razor sharp teeth. The assassin struck with a pair of hand axes. The Kal caught the first incoming axe with the shaft of his warclub. He caught the shaft of the other axe with his left hand as it came in and kicked the assassin in the chest. Both axes tore free from the assassin’s hand and the Kal, with a cry of pure rage, crushed in the demon’s head. The sound made Jon’s stomach turn.
Thorn continued to parry the heavy two-handed scimitar of the last assassin. The huge blades rang as they crashed together. Sparks flew into the dark of night. Each of the large men fought with equal strength and power. Gods help me, thought Jon, Thorn looks like one of them. He could have been one of them. Only when Adrin slashed at the huge assassin did he delay, opening the opportunity Thorn needed. Thorn cut low and hewed into the assassin’s thigh down to the bone. The man fell forward and Thorn cut downward hard, through the assassin’s shoulder and deep into his chest.
The battle ended and Jon breathed hard, his breath coming in mist. Jon looked down. The black-garbed villains fought so fiercely. There was a smell off of them, musky and sweet. It made Jon gag.
“Red Lotus,” said the Kal. “It saturates them. If you chew it you see heaven. If you inhale the smoke of it, it turns you into something from hell. Who knows what it did to these monsters.”
San’doro found a small skin of liquid on one of the men, he poured out a thick oily liquid into the ground. “That is not the only thing that gave them such strength.” said San’doro. Jon looked to Thorn and saw recognition in the big man’s dark eyes.
So that is what Stark will do. No doubt his eyes watched the battle against the red lotus assassins. “Take measure,” he would have whispered. If the assassins had won, the barrier to Fena Dim would open. If they lost, at least Stark would know what he faced. What now? Wait and plan? Jon could not say. He stared at the dead assassin at his feet, mask fallen and wide lipless mouth open revealing the sharpened fangs of a beast.
“I tell you, I’ve had about enough for one day,” said the Kal. The fires from the burning houses soon died down, painting the town in dark amber.
Jon looked at the corpses of the red lotus assassins and a shiver dug deep into his spine. What other beasts does Stark have in his stable? What will he do next? Time was on the demon raider’s side now. He would wait and he would learn.
“Adrin,” said Jon. “You and Thorn should stay in the town tonight. Take shifts and don’t fall asleep. If you see them coming, light a torch and spin it in a circle. Either Susan or Ca’daan will watch for it. We should be back here before dawn.”
“What will you do in the caves?” asked Adrin.
“Susan says they know who these creatures are,” said Jon. “I need to know if we have any chance of defeating them.”
Jon looked at the Kal. “How are you doing?”
“Good enough,” said the Kal. He grinned his half-iron grin. Jon hated that grin.
Jon, San’doro, Vrenna, and the Kal made their way slowly in the shadow of night to the mines. They brought no torches and Jon saw San’doro check over his shoulder for any sign of the Sticks behind them. If eyes were upon them, there was no hint. They wouldn’t be able to keep the mines secret very long, but the longer the better.
Ca’daan met them at the mouth of the lowest mine. He sat watching the smoke of the two burning houses rise into the night air. The sky grew violet on the east and dawn began to shine as it had for millions of years whether men battled men or titans walked the earth.
Susan slept wrapped in a bundle of blankets. The evening had clearly exhausted her. Her skin was pale and clammy to Jon’s touch. What was he doing to her? What cost was there for her amazing abilities? He would need them again if they hoped to defend the mines but for a moment he considered refusing them. How could he ask her to help them when it clearly hurt her so? How was he different than the Eye?
Jon lifted Susan into his arms, his muscles sore from combat. They walked into the caves and Ca’daan lifted a lantern.
Those who fled from the town recently made camps in the outer chambers while the rest of the town had gone deeper.
Men, women, and children, faces covered in ash, looked to Jon and the others. Large birds and heavy pigs complained loudly at the new world around them. Such creatures did not do well in caves.
The eyes of the villagers filled with both fear and anger. They had yet to understand the marauders who attacked, few would have seen them and survived. They focused their anger on those strangers they could see, Jon and the others. None of this happened until Jon and the others had arrived. It was easy to understand their anger.
Susan stirred in Jon’s arms. She looked up at him, her emerald eyes filled with dull weariness.
“I didn’t tell them yet,” she said. Jon did not understand. “Gauve was outside with Ca’daan. They saw Stark and Gauve recognized him. I could feel it. I didn’t dig, though. I can if you need.”
“No,” said Jon. “Sleep. We’ll need you later.” Jon took Susan to the mother of the boy who had befriended her. Things could go poorly in these caves. Susan needed to be safe. The woman’s eyes looked weary and she feared Jon when she saw him. Dark blood still stained his leather armor and dark cracked patches coated his hands. The woman nodded to him when he handed Susan to her. Jon had never bothered to learn their names.
Jon turned and saw the angry questioning eyes of the villagers around him. He turned to Ca’daan.
“Do you have a herbalist or sage? Who heals your sick?” asked Jon.
“The Wither,” said Ca’daan. “Alyse Witherspoon. She uses herbs and spices to cure the ill.”
“Is she here?” asked Jon.
“Yes,” said Ca’daan. “In the rear of the mine. She didn’t wait long to come here.”
Ca’daan took them to the back of the mines and the weary eyes of the villagers followed. Jon saw Gauve in consult with the other elders. He would speak to them
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