Ussin gave Roth a questioning glance and jerked his head toward the downed man.
Roth nodded, lowering his weapon but not sheathing it.They walked over together, with Ritathan following close behind.
The warrior’s face was a grimace of agony, clutching at his knee where a bolt protruded.He cried out, “My knee, someone—”
“Enough of your caterwauling,” Ussin said.“Who gave this command?”
“Lord Marshal Tarwain said it’d be easy enough, and you’d not get in the way and if ya did, to take you down as well.”The man’s face was pale and sweating as he gasped out the words.“Kill the Lord High Baron and all in his line.Wife, babes, servants, all that could be found.”
“Stupid,” Ussin said.“With battle trained fighters all around, and watchers?”
“My knee,” the man groaned.“A healer.I need—” he begged.
Roth made a move, but Ussin stopped him.“My man,” he said as he set his mace aside.“My problem.”He continued as he gripped the bolt.
“The Queen—” the man started then screamed as Ussin pulled the bolt from the wound.It came out clean, the head still intact and sharp.
“I’ll never walk again,” the man moaned.
“Not a worry,” Ussin said and plunged the bolt into his throat.
The man’s eyes went wide as he gurgled his last.
Ussin looked up at men clustered around him.“This,” he nodded around the courtyard, “was not my doing.I obey only the King’s commands.”
They nodded, stepping back and relaxing.Ritathan also nodded, glancing toward the farmer-type.
Ussin reached for his mace and shield.He rose in one smooth move.Throwing his weight into the blow, he turned and struck Ritathan full in the head.
There was a crack and the mage collapsed, blood streaming from his nose and ears.
“Thatwas the King’s command,” Ussin said, bringing up his shield and bracing for attack.
Chapter Forty-One
The Farmstead in the Black Hills
It happened so fast all Halithe could do was scream.
One moment she was just behind Rosalind, the warmth of the kitchen still in her clothes, the scent of the bean soup and bread in the air, listening to Rosalind’s harsh tones, watching everyone’s faces.The next, there were brutal cries and flashing blades and the smell of blood and death.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.She’d never been so close to danger before.Terror froze her in place.
Suddenly Ritathan was beside her, strong, silent, and grim.He’d been supposed to have remained hidden, but now he put himself between her and death.His warm hand went around her bracelet and she felt a force clamp down on her power, like a comforting weight.
Her power might be dampened, but Ritathan’s was not.The air shimmered as his power pulsed out, like a wave, flowing out from his hand, sending the attackers stumbling back.
That gave their people a moment, and that moment was all that was needed.Blades flashed again and the invaders’ bodies were scattered about while her loved ones stood, breathless, sweaty, and unharmed.
Halithe could breathe again.Ritathan was there, with all the power at his command and it was all right, it would be fine, they were safe.
He looked at her, then glanced toward the barn, where Aramal stood, bodies at his feet too, his quarterstaff in his hand.
“Stay with Rosalind,” her master commanded.He strode across to stand over the wounded warrior that the others had gathered around.Rosalind warped an arm around Halithe’s shoulders as the men talked.Ussin, the remaining Wyvern, moved and the warrior on the ground stilled.Everyone seemed to relax then…
Ussin stood, mace in hand, and swung.
Ritathan collapsed, snuffed out in a single blow.
