A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,110
before her in horror.
In the centre of the square, placed immediately before the steps to the feast-hall, stood a mountain of severed heads, steaming in the winter’s cold.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
SIG
Sig swung her weapon, a swooping curve, from high to low that arced around her opponent’s attempt at a parry. Too late he tried to dance back out of reach, but the length of Sig’s arm with a blade was too far for any man to evade in half a heartbeat. Her weapon crunched into his leg, just below the knee, lifting him from the ground and spinning him a full circle in the air before he crashed to the hard-frozen grass, flat on his back, the air leaving his lungs in one massive whoosh.
The scuff of feet behind her and, without a second’s thought, Sig spun on her heel, parrying the axe blow aimed at her head, flinging it high and stepping in close to stab her sword-point into the chest of the giant before her. As he stumbled back, dropping to one knee, Sig ducked, air hissing over her head as she spun again, this time chopping her blade two-handed into the waist of another giant, seeing him sway and slowly topple to the ground. Sig took a step forwards, standing over him, sword-tip at his throat.
The giant on the ground looked up at her, then swore.
‘Ach, you’re just showing off for the new bairns,’ he said gruffly.
‘Give me your hand,’ Sig replied, lifting her wooden practice blade away from Tain’s throat.
He smiled then, that infectious grin, even as he was wincing with the pain of moving as his waist twisted and bruised ribs contracted.
‘I’m going back to my Crow Tower,’ Tain said with a mock groan, ‘it’s safer up there.’
‘Not by the looks of your cloak,’ Sig commented, looking at what was once a black bearskin cloak, now streaked and strained with the arse-end of crows.
‘That I can live with, pain’s a much deeper issue,’ Tain grunted.
Behind her Fachen, another giant warrior of the Order, was climbing to his feet.
‘You all right?’ Sig asked.
He raised a hand to Sig, nodded.
‘You’re slowing down,’ he grunted.
Sig breathed in a long, deep breath, enjoying the sensation of the cold as it seeped into her lungs. They’d already had some light snow, and more on the way, by the smell of it. She was glad to be back. Even though that sense of dread that Byrne had spoken about had not gone, it had faded, and Sig was home in time for Midwinter’s Day. It was a holy day for the Order of the Bright Star, a day of remembrance, for it was on Midwinter’s Day that the Battle of Drassil had been fought, the Kadoshim and Ben-Elim unleashed upon the Banished Lands. The Kadoshim had been defeated, driven from the field, and Asroth sealed within his cage of molten stone. Corban the Bright Star had been central to those events, and it had been on that day that his dear friends, Gar and Brina, had fallen in the great battle. It was also the day when Corban had resolved to create the Order of the Bright Star, both as a legacy to Gar and Brina, and also to continue the fight against the Kadoshim. The festival was on the morrow, a day of sombre remembrance, and in the evening they would feast in the grey keep and drink to fallen comrades. It was important to Sig that they were remembered, honoured for their sacrifice. On the morrow they would gather before the Stone of Heroes, bow their heads and think of their fallen sword-brothers and sisters …
They were upon Dun Seren’s weapons-field: a huge expanse contained between the inner and outer walls of the fortress. Warriors were hard at combat in various sections of the field, training. Some were mounted upon horseback, giants upon bears, elsewhere a hundred or so formed up in the shield wall. The Order of the Bright Star used round shields in their wall, unlike the rectangular ones favoured by the White-Wings of Drassil. That was because, to become a warrior of the Bright Star, a novice had to master all of the disciplines, be able to fight in the shield wall, or upon horseback, or upon their feet all alone, and a rectangular shield was impractical upon a horse or in individual combat. A round shield was more adaptable across the disciplines, and so that was what they used.