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A new age was upon them. How can you not see that? How can you not understand? I have made discoveries. It was all there, in the stories and the songs. Such discoveries!
The keep gate isn’t even closed.
Instincts had reared, beast-like, and now Risp felt herself knocked about on her saddle, her lance dragging and stuttering heavily on the cobbles, yanking her arm back. Impaled on the weapon was a boy of about five years of age. He had darted out from behind a rag cart, almost into her path, and she had struck without thought, and now his limp body was skewered, his limbs flopping as his weight pulled at her.
A sob broke from her throat, a sound broken with horror. She bit back on it. The lance head stabbed into the ground again and this time she relaxed her grip, releasing the weapon. Directly ahead was a heavily pregnant woman, pulling two children with her as she ran down the alley.
Something cold and empty drove all thoughts from Risp, and she felt her hand draw free her longsword, saw the blade flash in front of her.
As she closed on the three, she saw the woman throw both children ahead of her, screaming ‘ Run! ’ And then she spun round, leaping into the path of Risp’s horse.
The impact sent the woman flying back, to land stunned on the cobbles.
Risp’s horse staggered, coughing, forelegs folding under it. As it collapsed, Risp kicked her boots free of the stirrups and rolled from the saddle. She struck the ground on her right shoulder, felt the sword clatter away from a senseless hand, and came up against the wall of a building. Looking up, she saw her sergeant ride past, slashing down at the nearest of the two children, who fell without a sound. The other child, a girl of about four, wheeled to rush to her fallen sister, and came within reach of the sergeant’s sword. He cut down across the back of her neck and she crumpled like a doll.
Picking herself up, Risp collected her sword, left-handed, and awkwardly readied the weapon. Only now did she see the handle of a knife, its blade embedded in the chest of her dying horse. Fury took hold and she advanced on the pregnant woman. ‘You killed my horse!’ she shouted.
The pregnant woman lifted her head and met Risp’s eyes. Her face twisted and she spat at Risp.
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A new age was upon them. How can you not see that? How can you not understand? I have made discoveries. It was all there, in the stories and the songs. Such discoveries!
The keep gate isn’t even closed.
Instincts had reared, beast-like, and now Risp felt herself knocked about on her saddle, her lance dragging and stuttering heavily on the cobbles, yanking her arm back. Impaled on the weapon was a boy of about five years of age. He had darted out from behind a rag cart, almost into her path, and she had struck without thought, and now his limp body was skewered, his limbs flopping as his weight pulled at her.
A sob broke from her throat, a sound broken with horror. She bit back on it. The lance head stabbed into the ground again and this time she relaxed her grip, releasing the weapon. Directly ahead was a heavily pregnant woman, pulling two children with her as she ran down the alley.
Something cold and empty drove all thoughts from Risp, and she felt her hand draw free her longsword, saw the blade flash in front of her.
As she closed on the three, she saw the woman throw both children ahead of her, screaming ‘ Run! ’ And then she spun round, leaping into the path of Risp’s horse.
The impact sent the woman flying back, to land stunned on the cobbles.
Risp’s horse staggered, coughing, forelegs folding under it. As it collapsed, Risp kicked her boots free of the stirrups and rolled from the saddle. She struck the ground on her right shoulder, felt the sword clatter away from a senseless hand, and came up against the wall of a building. Looking up, she saw her sergeant ride past, slashing down at the nearest of the two children, who fell without a sound. The other child, a girl of about four, wheeled to rush to her fallen sister, and came within reach of the sergeant’s sword. He cut down across the back of her neck and she crumpled like a doll.
Picking herself up, Risp collected her sword, left-handed, and awkwardly readied the weapon. Only now did she see the handle of a knife, its blade embedded in the chest of her dying horse. Fury took hold and she advanced on the pregnant woman. ‘You killed my horse!’ she shouted.
The pregnant woman lifted her head and met Risp’s eyes. Her face twisted and she spat at Risp.
She hacked the woman down with repeated blows.
Beyond them, at the alley mouth, the sergeant had reined in and spun his horse round. He seemed about to shout something, and then a figure leapt down from the roof to the sergeant’s left, colliding with the veteran and dragging him from the saddle. Blood sprayed the moment before they struck the cobbles, and the figure rose into a crouch, glaring across at Risp.
A young woman of sixteen or so. She dragged free a long-bladed knife from under the sergeant’s ribcage, and then advanced on Risp.
Sensation was returning to the lieutenant’s right hand and she quickly changed grips, but her shoulder was throbbing and weak. She backed away.
The girl bared her teeth. ‘You armoured and all! Don’t run, you filthy murderer!’
Another rider came up behind Risp, but had to slow his mount since Risp’s dead horse blocked the alley. ‘Back up, sir!’ he snapped. ‘Leave the pup to me!’
She saw that he was one of the sergeant’s comrades, Bishim. His face looked almost black beneath his helm, contorted with rage. He slipped down from his horse and drew his shield to the ready as he advanced on the girl, pointing with his sword. ‘For Darav, I’m going to make this hurt.’
The girl laughed. ‘Come at me, then.’
Bishim charged behind his shield, slashing with his sword.
The girl somehow slipped past and then was clambering on to the man’s kite shield. Her weight pulled it down and she stabbed her knife into the side of his neck. The point burst out the other side in a welter of blood. As Bishim fell to his knees, the girl sliced through the biceps of his weapon arm and laughed as the sword clanged on the stones. Then she stepped over the dying man and advanced on Risp.
The lieutenant threw her sword at the girl and then ran, grasping the reins of Bishim’s horse as she went. With the beast between her and the girl in the narrow alley, she knew that she had a few moments in which to The girl used one wall to rebound from as she leapt to land astride the horse. Her knife slashed down and Risp felt her arm snap upward. Staggering, confused, she looked to see that its hand was gone, sliced clean off at the wrist, and blood was gushing out. Moaning, she fell back against the nearest wall. ‘Don’t,’ she said.
The girl swung round the horse’s neck to land in front of the beast, and then advanced on Risp. ‘Don’t? Don’t what? I’m a Bordersword. You attacked us. What is it you don’t want me to do?’
