Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Behind Everard, the door thudded, and the Magnar brothers tore out, weapons in hand. Lute was half dressed—his tunic loose—and pale, gripping his sword. Will looked like he hadn’t even gone to bed.
Everard didn’t pay them any mind.
Gort burst out of the door.
The brothers flanked Everard, weapons ready.
“Harst!” Gort snarled.
Will and Lute backed away in unison, falling into a loose stance by the wine tree. Will caught the shaft of his axe with his left hand, while Lute rested his blade on his shoulder.
A battle command. All soldiers in Rellas drilled to instantly obey them, and that one meant hold position. Gort had been a kir, a sergeant, first in the King’s Army and then as a mercenary. When he barked an order, disobeying wasn’t an option. They wouldn’t move until Gort told them to.
One of the intruders stopped just like the brothers.
“Gort?” he asked, his voice uncertain.
Gort turned to him. “Tillmar?”
Tillmar backed away from the group and parked himself by the wall, his sword down.
“What the fuck are you doing?” one of the attackers snarled.
“I’m done,” Tillmar told him.
“The fuck you are!”
“Today,” Everard snapped.
The eight remaining intruders charged.
They came at Everard in a pack, like wolves trying to encircle a deer, the two spearmen in the lead.
The taller spearman lunged, aiming for Everard’s stomach. The Sleepless Duke knocked the spear to the left with his arm and drove the point of his sword into the man’s face. The second spearman thrust from the side, and Everard shoved the first intruder at him. The second attacker stumbled, trying to avoid the body. The point of his spear dipped. Everard smashed the flat of his sword against it. The spear touched the ground. Everard stepped on it. The spearman bent his knees, trying to wrench the weapon up, and Everard stabbed at his neck, lightning fast.
It happened so quick, less than two seconds, and then the two spearmen collapsed, while Everard was on his feet in a circle of attackers.
He dropped the point of his sword down, almost touching the ground.
A large man charged at him, swinging a longsword in a devastating overhand strike. Everard stepped to the side, redirecting the descending sword with the flat of his blade. The swordsman realized he was exposed and tried to jerk his arm to the right, but Everard’s sword was faster. He struck. The man’s head drooped, barely connected to his neck by a sliver of flesh. He took another step then crashed down to the stone floor.
An axeman chopped at Everard from the left. He shied back. The axe whistled by, but another swordsman on the right was waiting, and their blade grazed Everard’s back.
Oh god.
Everard thrust at the swordsman, too fast to follow. The swordsman’s back was to us, and I didn’t see exactly what happened, but Everard’s blade slid either into his throat or his upper chest. The swordsman stumbled away, clutching at himself, folded in half, and fell.
The axeman came at Everard swinging. Everard dodged, left, right, floating like his body was made of water. His sword sliced, and the axeman dropped the axe, clenched their arm, and tried to back away. Everard thrust and recovered in a fraction of a second. The axeman went down.
Five bodies in the courtyard.
The three remaining attackers hesitated.
“He’s bleeding,” one of the shadows growled.
Everard took a step back, toward the southern wall directly opposite our tower. The intruders followed.
Another step.
Another.
If he kept going, eventually his back would hit our stables.
Why wasn’t anyone helping him? Why wasn’t I helping him? I opened my mouth to tell Kaiden to bring me a bow. I had never shot one before, but I could shoot a gun. I would manage.
Everard stopped.
The intruders closed in on him, weapons ready.
His eyes ignited with a shocking, murderous green. Black smoke shot out of him, licking the pavers of the courtyard. Brilliant green Fatefire ran up the blade.
Tillmar dropped to one knee, head bowed.
Everard lunged, light on his feet. His sword struck, slicing at the nearest attacker. The top half of the intruder slid aside and crashed to the ground. Clover gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth.
The two remaining swordsmen had no time to react. Everard was coming, unstoppable, fast, his sword slicing like the Grim Reaper’s scythe. The green blade kissed the second shadow’s neck, and the head rolled off its shoulders. The third one turned to run, and the blade severed their spine.
He’d cut them down like they were made of paper.
I realized I had squeezed the windowsill so hard, my fingers hurt.
If anyone enters this house, even if they appear by magic, I will know and I will kill them.
Well, he kept his word.
Everard strode to the kneeling intruder, the glow of the Fatefire throwing green light on his face. The black smoke curled around his feet. He looked like a demon, he killed like one, and now he was moving to take this man’s life and nothing in the world could stop him.