A Time of Blood (Of Blood and Bone #2) - John Gwynne Page 0,148

about her with her sword as her flesh was torn and rent.

This is useless.

Bleda.

Riv slipped her bow back into its case, tucked her wings and dropped into a dive, sweeping over the ground between Erdene and the Ferals, searching for the point she had last seen Bleda.

It was easy to find, a tide line of dead shaven-haired acolytes marking the spot. She dropped to the ground, eyes peering into the twilight gloom of Forn. Dim figures were moving, riders on horseback, and others on foot about them. The ring of steel echoed out from the treeline.

To Riv’s left Erdene was leading her Sirak warband back down the road, to her right the Ferals were bounding, leaping and snarling in their fury as they chased after their retreating prey.

A groan behind Riv, and she turned to see a Sirak warrior try to rise from the ground. A woman, a spear lodged in the meat between her shoulder and chest. It was Ruga, Bleda’s guard. Riv ran to her, the rush of Ferals so close now, the ground trembling, the sound of their snarling fury almost deafening.

She tore the spear from Ruga, cast it at the oncoming Ferals and then swept the injured woman up into her arms, powerful beats of her wings lifting them both into the air, a Feral leaping at her, teeth snapping, claws raking Riv’s boot. She kicked out, saw the Feral crash to the ground, and then Riv and Ruga were climbing higher, out of reach of the onrushing river of monsters beneath them as they continued their mindless, furious charge after Erdene.

Riv hovered, taking a moment to assess the battle.

All around her Ben-Elim fought with Kadoshim and their half-breeds, the battle raging, balanced. On the ground, Erdene seemed to have a good distance between her and the Ferals, ever-widening, and on Riv’s side of the road the dim sounds of combat drifted up and out from the forest.

Riv was about to fly back into the trees and resume her search for Bleda when a movement caught her eyes.

It was far down the road, ahead of Erdene’s retreating warband.

Another huge wain with a giant cage atop it was being rolled out by musclebound auroch. It stopped across the road, cutting off Erdene’s retreat, a half-breed Kadoshim alighting on it and reaching down for the gate-pin.

Oh no.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

BLEDA

Bleda chopped through a raised hand, severing fingers, and then swung his sword into the meat between neck and shoulder. Another blow from Bleda crunched into the man’s skull and he toppled lifeless to the ground.

A twist of Bleda’s knees, guiding his mount between trees as another foe leaped at him, a woman with a short-sword in her fist. Their blades clashed, the woman’s hand grasping at Bleda’s surcoat as she tried to heave herself up his horse’s side. Bleda hacked into her arm, above the elbow, and she fell backwards, blood jetting. A command and twitch of Bleda’s reins and his horse was rearing, hooves lashing out, punching the woman in the chest and face and she was crashing to the ground.

There was a moment’s lull as Bleda looked around, trying to make sense of the chaos surrounding him. He had ridden deep into the forest, a wild, heedless charge at first, cutting down all those that were running before him. His line of warriors was broken by trees and melee combat as many of those they had chased into the darkness had turned and resumed their fighting. Bleda blinked, straining his eyes, the gloom restricting his vision to less than thirty or forty paces. He was not even sure what direction would lead him back to the road.

A horse swept past him, Ellac upon its back, a sword in his one hand, a buckler of iron strapped to his other. He was hacking at enemy either side of him, a spear-wielding man closest to Bleda.

Bleda urged his horse forwards. The spear-man heard his approach, twisting and stabbing his spear up, into the chest of Bleda’s horse. The animal screamed, stumbled, Bleda feeling it shudder beneath him, biting as its forelegs collapsed, taking a chunk of flesh from the enemy’s cheek even as it died.

Bleda fell from the saddle, threw himself away before the horse could roll and pin his leg. He staggered to his feet, saw the spear-man coming at him, blood gushing from the bite on his face, the weapon stabbing for his gut. Bleda stumbled backwards, slashing wildly at the spear, caught it a glancing blow, deflecting