by A J Callen
“And your courage is only exceeded by your foolishness.” She drew a fresh arrow. “Wait until the enemy is in striking distance before you try that again. Or it shall be your undoing.” But there was no time for chatter; Rachel reeled to see yet another coming at her, its mighty teeth bared and the creased wings casting a black shadow across the earth. She struck out and, in a split second, pierced it through the very center of its eye socket. It tumbled backward, flapping wings crumpling and the mouth yawning wide with pain.
Rachel knew she had beaten it and turned back to Simon as if she had just done nothing at all. “You were too high in the air,” she said, going back to their earlier exchange.
Shamus clomped in front of the other horses, shielding the frightened animals with his massive body while Esther swerved and darted around, picking off slower-winged attackers.
Mr. Byrch stuck his torch in the ground. “Good boy, Shamus. Good girl, Esther. Now let’s be done with this deviltry.” He swung his great ax with two hands and sliced through the seething cloud of beating wings and gnashing teeth. The creatures fell dead and wounded around him, the extended wings now faintly flapping and flailing their way toward a final stillness. Only a mighty one still dug its claws into his bulging shoulder.
Lord Lionsbury thrust forward and skewered it with his sword like a plump rat.
“Many thanks, your Lordship, and you didn’t nick me this time.” Mr. Byrch cleaved the head of another beast that was scratching and snapping at the horses.
Rachel lit an arrowhead from a torch. She narrowed her eyes and let her pointed missile fly toward the largest creature hovering in the air above the others. The flaming arrow pierced its bloated belly and, like sulfur vapors trapped in foul-smelling earth, it exploded in a shower of fiery gore right over their heads.
The odious winged horde issued a single, deafening shriek and flew up and over the treetops in a final churning funnel of flapping wings and snarling jaws.
His Lordship severed the wounded, squealing creature at his feet in half. “That was remarkable, Miss Fallbrook. How did you know to do that?”
“That stench is from the foul, sulfurous air that escapes from deep within the earth. I wanted to see if there was any still trapped inside their extended bellies.”
Byrch grabbed his stomach and laughed. “I’ll be sure not to pick a fight with you, lass. And yes, you proved all that sure enough. Those be no ordinary bats, but I don’t think we’ll see the likes of them again as long as you have a flaming arrow waiting for their guts.”
Lord Lionsbury stepped up to Simon. “What happened?”
“I… I lost my footing when I landed on the jagged rocks.” As he spoke, Simon pierced a last wounded creature trapped high in the branches of a tree. “It won’t happen again, Lord Lionsbury.”
A shadow of anger crossed his Lordship’s haggard face. “We must depend on each other to survive this ordeal. See that you follow the example of Kovoth and your friends. A disciplined strike is a decisive one. How can you be certain to have the energy needed for the fatal blow if you expend it first with such displays of boyish country dancing? I saw how you tried to meet your foe in midair. That is their high ground and advantage, not ours.”
Simon sheathed his sword. “No disrespect, my lord, but didn’t you say that our feet shouldn’t stay in one place for longer than a moment? Sometimes we must attack to seize the enemy’s advantage from beneath their feet too.”
Lord Lionsbury’s dark eyes narrowed against the glare of the fire. “So, you wish to debate the point? So be it. But you did not succeed and we cannot afford to lose another protector who does not follow orders. In fact, we cannot afford to even carry such a man among us; he is a mere liability.”
Without looking at Simon, he turned and spoke to the others.
“The Choldath have unleashed their spies throughout the Kingdom. We must assume now that Koldrin knows we are searching for something of great importance. We will rest the night and double our guard with each taking their turn. Tomorrow, we must hasten our journey before he discovers the treasure we seek.”
Simon tended to Jesamine’s bloody scratches. “Mister Kovoth fought bravely. The least I can do to repay him is to take first watch with Mister Byrch, that is, if you agree, Lord Lionsbury.”
“Very well. But see that your feet remained planted firmly on the earth this time. We do not want another ballet. Take this as your last chance to show you are a fighter.”
“And don’t wake me up before it’s my turn, boy,” Kovoth stabbed a headless carcass and flung it into the trees. “Or I’ll be in a most disagreeable mood.” He cleaned the foul-smelling gore off his blade with a bloody, limp rag.
Mr. Byrch dabbed at poor Shamus’s scratched and bleeding neck with a wet cloth. His hands were as gentle as a maidservant tending to her injured mistress. “Good boy. You were very brave tonight, Shamus.” He fed him a turnip and watched as the horse calmed. “And you too, Esther. Sometimes the strongest need to take the worst of it to help the others.”
Esther bobbed her head and squawked. Byrch had a certain way with the animals.
He tossed Esther a small piece of dried beef, first rolling it between forefinger and thumb so it was the right shape. She caught it in her beak and flew away as she had done many times before. Byrch shook his head. “Now then. Hawks don’t hunt at night, and for the life of me I can’t puzzle it out. If someone can tell me where that bloody bird goes at night, I’d be very much obliged.”
Kovoth examined his sword near the fire. “All I can say, Byrch, is that your little turtle dove better be careful. Someone recently arrived in Avidene is paying a good bounty for every bird netted or killed.”
“Who?” Byrch asked, glaring.
Kovoth shrugged. “Don’t know so I can’t say, though I never liked anything that can fly, myself. And even dead, they’re no good. The meat’s too stringy and there’s never enough of it. It’s not for me, the pick-pick of the bones of a bird.”
Byrch cursed under his breath and stomped off with Shamus through the frothy mist that came drifting in waves from between the dark trees.
Simon touched Rachel’s arm, gently, and rested his fingers there. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.” He took his position just outside the camp, then, silent and distant as a statue as he gazed up into the endless starry expanse of night.
Rachel placed a blanket over Rupert’s back and felt a shiver traverse the length of her spine, wishing she had her thick quilted comforter from home.
The uncommon heat of the day had faded into a cold, heavy darkness all around, and for the first time since escaping the Corridor of Shadows, she was fearful that she might not feel the innocent warmth of a childhood sun ever again.
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End of Book Three
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading this book.
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I hope you enjoyed Simon Blackfyre and the Enemy Within. Please feel free to post your review here: www.amazon.com/Simon-Blackfyre-Enemy-Within-sorcery-ebook/dp/B07L6VZ4WW if you found the story and characters to your liking.
It’s wonderful readers like you that make all the difference to authors like me.
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Cheers,
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A. J. Callen
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Please check my website for more information including the release date for Simon Blackfyre and the Mountain of Secrets.
https://ajcallenbooks.com
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