His eyes smarted from the acrid smoke and he blinked back tears as he reached the fallen soldier. He turned over the body to retrieve the sword and as his hand fell upon the hilt, the soldiers eyes snapped open. Kieli froze, and as he yanked back the sword the soldier lashed out with his shield, bashing him in the face.
Kieli fell back, his vision swimming and the world seemingly tilting under his feet. Only his natural quickness saved him, for just as the soldier was on his feet, dagger drawn and slashed at him, Kieli dodged.
For a second he thought he had avoided the blade, then pain erupted across his chest and he felt blood flowing. It was a shallow wound, but a long one, running from just under his left collarbone down to his right nipple and there to the bottom of his ribs.
Kieli slashed with his own blade and felt shock run up his arm as the soldier deftly took the blow on his shield.
Another attack and the boy knew that he was overmatched, for he only narrowly avoided death from a dagger-slash to the stomach. Had the soldier attacked with his sword instead of with a short blade, Kieli knew hed be lying gutted upon the ground.
Fear threatened to rise up and overwhelm him then, but the thought of his family fighting for their lives only yards beyond the masking smoke forced it aside.
Seeing the boys hesitation, the soldier grinned wickedly and closed in. Kieli knew that his only advantage was the length of his blade, so he offered his already-wounded chest as a target and clumsily raised the sword with both hands as if to bring it crashing down upon the soldiers head. As Kieli had hoped, the soldier reflexively raised his shield to take the blow and drew back his dagger for the killing thrust.
Kieli, however, dropped to his knees with a spin, bringing his sword down and around in a powerful arc which sliced through the soldiers leg, knocking him backwards screaming. Blood sprayed from the severed arteries just below his knee. Leaping to his feet, Kieli stepped upon the mans dagger-hand, and struck straight down with the swords point into the mans throat, ending his agony.
He tried to wipe his sword-hand dry, but discovered that blood was flowing freely from the long cut on his chest and knew hed soon be weakening if he didnt bind it, though he thought it probably looked a great deal worse than it was.
As he hurried toward the sounds of battle a gust of wind cleared his vision for a moment so that he had a clean line of sight and could see the villages central square. The tables that had been heavily laden with food and ale were overturned, the ground around them littered with the feast for the days celebration. The flower garlands were crushed into mud made up of soil and blood. For a panic-stricken second, Kieli faltered, horror causing his gorge to rise. He blinked back tears though whether they were caused by smoke or rage he didnt know. A short distance away lay the bodies of three children, obviously cut down from behind as they raced for shelter. Beyond them, he could see the men of his village making a stand before the round house. Kieli knew the women and surviving children would be inside, the women armed with knives and daggers to defend the children should the men fall.
Men he had known all his life were being slaughtered, despite fighting with desperation to protect their families. The soldiers had set up a shield wall and were pressing in with spears levelled, while behind them sat mounted soldiers, calmly loading and firing crossbows into the villagers.
The Orosini bowmen responded, but the battles outcome was obvious, even to a boy like Kieli. He knew he would not survive this day but even so, he could not stand behind the invaders and not do whatever was in his power.
On wobbly legs he started forwards, his target a man upon a black horse, obviously the leader of these murderers. Next to him sat another horseman wearing a black tunic and trousers. His hair was as dark as his clothing, pulled back behind his ears and falling to his shoulders.
The man somehow sensed something was behind him, for he turned just as Kieli started to run. Kieli saw the mans face clearly; a dark beard trimmed close to his jaw-line, a long nose which gave him a harsh appearance, and pursed lips as if he had been lost in thought before he heard Kielis charge. The riders eyes widened slightly at the sight of the armed and bloody boy then he calmly said something to the officer, who turned. The man in black carefully lifted his arm. There was a small crossbow in his hand. He calmly took aim.
Kieli knew he had to strike before the mans finger tightened on the release. But two strides away from the horseman the boys knees weakened. Kielis newly acquired sword felt as if it had been fashioned of lead and stone and his arm refused to obey his command to deliver a killing blow to the invader.
The boy was one stride away when the black clad man fired the crossbow. Then his knees buckled. The bolt had taken him in the chest, high up in the muscle below his first wound.
The bolt spun him around completely and his blood splattered both men as it fountained from the wound. The sword flew backwards from fingers that could no longer grip. His knees struck the ground and he fell over backwards, his eyes losing focus as pain and shock swept over him.
Voices shouted, but the sound was muted and he could not understand what they were saying. For a brief instant, he saw something: high in the sky above him a silver hawk flew in a circle, and to Kieli it seemed to be looking directly down at him. In his mind he heard the voice once again. Linger, little brother, for your time is not yet. Be my talon and rend our enemies.
His last thought was of the bird.
CHAPTER TWO
Kendricks
KIELIS PAIN pierced the darkness.
He couldnt will his eyes open, yet he knew he was alive. He felt hands upon him and as if from a great distance heard a voice mutter, This ones still alive.
Another voice said, Lets get him in the wagon. Hes lost a lot of blood.
Part of Kielis mind registered he was hearing words in the traders language, what was called the Common Tongue, not the language of the Orosini.
He felt another pair of hands upon him. As they began to move him, he groaned and lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Pain coursed though Kielis body as he came awake. He forced his eyes open and tried to lift his head. The effort brought forth a wave of agony and his stomach churned, yet there was nothing in it for him to vomit up. The wracking pain that swept through him made him gasp aloud and moan.
His eyes couldnt focus so he could not see the owner of the gentle hands that pushed him back and said, Lie still, lad. Breathe slowly.
Kieli saw shapes before him: heads in shadow, lightning in the sky above them. He blinked and tried to clear his eyes. Here, said another voice from above him, and a gourd of water touched his lips.
Drink slowly, said the first voice. Youve lost a lot of blood. We didnt think youd make it.
The first swallow of water caused the spasms to return, and he vomited up the tiny bit of water. Sip, then, said the voice.
He did as he was instructed and the mouthful of water stayed down. Suddenly he was thirsty beyond memory. He tried to swallow, but the gourd was removed from his lips. He attempted to lift his hand to grasp it, but his arm would not obey his command.