Gods of Blood and Fire - A. J. Strickler Page 0,58

there, you saw him limp into that circle of cutthroats, take the captain’s head, and then defied the rest of those bastards to doing anything about it. That is something most only hear about, let alone see, and I was not going to be out done.”

K’xarr shifted in his saddle, “Not let him out do you, in what, stupidity? Cromwell, we were just lucky to get away with our lives and we lost all our pay, for what? A bunch of worthless peasants. I don’t like rape or slavery, but you didn’t see me trying to pick a fight with the whole company over it. We have to be smarter than that.”

“You aided us, why if it was so foolish?”

“You’re my friend, Cromwell, and I suppose that unconscious half-breed back there is too. Listen to me now, we can’t let Kian play hero anymore, we’re mercenaries, we fight for pay. The villagers were not paying, so we should not have been fighting for them.”

Cromwell banged his fist on his chest. “I know what we are, Kian only stood by his principles and I stood by him.”

K’xarr stretched back in his saddle, they had been riding a long time already. “Don’t be so naïve and stop getting all worked up. We aren’t knights or heroes from a story, we’re sell-swords and poor ones at that. It’s hard enough to keep a job very long with this accursed blood of ours. Just keep him and his principles in line. Okay?”

“I will do my best but he is an Arradar, K’xarr, it will be hard.”

“I don’t even know what the hell that is, Cromwell.”

“It is a Toran word for someone who will die for a cause, a protector of the weak. In the traders’ tongue it means defender.”

K’xarr looked up at the sky, “That’s just what I need.”

Chapter 9

I bet you’re glad to be out of that wagon,” Vandarus said.

“It was a long ten days. I know the wagon was slowing us down. Now that I can sit a horse we can move along,” Kian said.

“I don’t know how much speed we picked up without the wagon, Siro and that damn mule aren’t much faster,” Vandarus said, pointing behind them with his thumb to where the healer rode.

Kian chuckled, he liked Vandarus. He seemed like a good man. The Bandaran always seemed to be in a good mood unlike his other grim companions.

K’xarr had brought a horse along for Kian when they left the Birds of Prey, but when they had abandoned the wagon in Warmark the little healer was stuck riding the small mule that had been pulling it.

“Hey, Siro, see if you and your gallant steed can move a little quicker,” Vandarus called out.

“I really hate you, Vandarus, more every day.” Kian laughed. Vandarus had made sport of the healer since they met. The two had entertained their companions through the long days of riding. Sometimes even Siro had been amused by the Bandaran’s jokes. Kian had been worried about it at first; he thought the men really hated each other. He soon realized that the two men were just jesting with each other. The Half Elf still had a hard time understanding why people thought ridiculing someone was funny. So he just laughed along with them when they insulted each other.

The ride through Warmark had been uneventful and slow. The bleak land and its people were both unfriendly. The farther south they rode, the more futile the land became. They crossed the Tyborg River into the rich pasture lands of the Kingdom of Alarusia. Kian thought the countryside was beautiful. Small farms dotted the landscape, and they had even passed a couple of small towns. They had not stopped at any of them, K’xarr thought it better not to visit anywhere with too many people. He told them it was too easy to get into trouble in a town. K’xarr had looked right at him when he made the statement. The Camiran said that he want to keep traveling east and get on the Gold Road. His plan was to follow it south.

Kian couldn’t wait to get his first look at the famous road even though he was a little nervous. The Gold Road was heavily traveled, he would have to be careful and to try and hide his race as best he could. Most humans were at best indifferent or just rude to his kind, but there were those whose hatred for half-breeds would cause them to do violence