Read Online A Joust of Knights (Book #16 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice - Free Book Online
Authors: Morgan Rice
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desert beyond and saw that they were pristine. Untraceable.
Their trail ended here.
Koldo came up beside Kendrick and motioned
to him at the sands beyond, examining them.
“It appears your trail ends here,” he
said to Kendrick, puzzled.
Kendrick nodded.
“A storm swept through here,” he
replied.
“You are lucky to have lived,” Ludvig
chimed in.
Koldo nodded, satisfied.
“Very good,” he said. “Then this is
where we shall begin our sweep—from here back to the Ridge.”
“And what if he is wrong?” came a voice.
Kendrick turned to see Naten staring
back at him angrily.
“What if their trail picks up again, out
there somewhere?” Naten added.
Koldo frowned.
“Of course the trail picks up
somewhere,” Koldo replied, curt. “But what matters is that it does not lead all
the way to this spot. There is a break in it, and that is what matters. From
this spot, as far as I can see, there is nothing. Do you see something I do
not?”
Naten frowned, turned, and walked away,
clearly unable to respond.
“Prepare your sweepers!” Koldo commanded
firmly, then turned and headed back to his horse.
His men broke into action, each
extracting from their saddles long sweepers, poles with a smooth, rake-like attachment
at one end, wide and flat, and attached them to the back of their horses. They
were flexible, sweeping in different directions, so as not to give a uniform
look to any sweeping they did, and completely erasing any possible trail.
Kendrick admired them: they were clearly ingenious devices.
“We still have time to return to the
Ridge before dark falls,” Koldo said, turning and looking back with hope toward
the Ridge.
“There better be,” Naten said, coming up
beside Kendrick. “If we don’t, we’re going to spend a long night out in this
desert—and it’s all going to be your fault.”
Kendrick scowled, fed up.
“What is your problem with me?” he demanded.
Naten scowled back, confronting him.
“Our lives were perfect,” he said.
“Before you showed up.”
“I haven’t ruined your precious Ridge,”
Kendrick snapped.
“It seems like you’ve ruined every place
you’ve come from,” Naten countered.
“You lack respect,” Kendrick replied.
“And hospitality. Two sacred virtues. As much as I dislike you, I would have
welcomed you into my homeland, a stranger. I would have even fought for you.”
Naten scoffed.
“Then we are very different people,” he
replied. “I would not fight for you—and if I had my choice, I would never let
you into our—”
Suddenly, a shriek cut through the air,
interrupting them, raising the hair on the back of Kendrick’s spine.
And then, complete chaos.
Before Kendrick could grasp what was
happening, he heard a man cry out in pain, an awful shriek, and out of the corner
of his eye, he saw something dark and hairy drop down from the sky and land on
his throat.
Kendrick turned as he sensed motion from
up above.
“TREE CLINGERS!” a man shouted.
Kendrick looked up and was horrified to
see that the thick branches of the tree were filled with glowing yellow eyes. A
group of small monsters, with black fur and long claws and fangs, looking like
sloths, began to reveal themselves, jumping out of the branches and leaping
onto the men. Their claws shined in the air, several feet long, as sharp as
swords, and they raised them high and swung them down like machetes, jumping right
for the group of men.
Kendrick reached to draw his sword, but
it was too late. Before he could react, a tree clinger, its long claws
extended, swung right for his face—and there was nothing he could do to stop
it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Boku hung on the crucifix that the
Empire soldiers had nailed him to days ago, the last of his people alive since
the great slaughter, somehow, despite his wishes, still clinging to life. He
had stopped feeling the pain and agony—that had passed days ago. He no longer
felt the agony searing through his palms, no longer felt
Their trail ended here.
Koldo came up beside Kendrick and motioned
to him at the sands beyond, examining them.
“It appears your trail ends here,” he
said to Kendrick, puzzled.
Kendrick nodded.
“A storm swept through here,” he
replied.
“You are lucky to have lived,” Ludvig
chimed in.
Koldo nodded, satisfied.
“Very good,” he said. “Then this is
where we shall begin our sweep—from here back to the Ridge.”
“And what if he is wrong?” came a voice.
Kendrick turned to see Naten staring
back at him angrily.
“What if their trail picks up again, out
there somewhere?” Naten added.
Koldo frowned.
“Of course the trail picks up
somewhere,” Koldo replied, curt. “But what matters is that it does not lead all
the way to this spot. There is a break in it, and that is what matters. From
this spot, as far as I can see, there is nothing. Do you see something I do
not?”
Naten frowned, turned, and walked away,
clearly unable to respond.
“Prepare your sweepers!” Koldo commanded
firmly, then turned and headed back to his horse.
His men broke into action, each
extracting from their saddles long sweepers, poles with a smooth, rake-like attachment
at one end, wide and flat, and attached them to the back of their horses. They
were flexible, sweeping in different directions, so as not to give a uniform
look to any sweeping they did, and completely erasing any possible trail.
Kendrick admired them: they were clearly ingenious devices.
“We still have time to return to the
Ridge before dark falls,” Koldo said, turning and looking back with hope toward
the Ridge.
“There better be,” Naten said, coming up
beside Kendrick. “If we don’t, we’re going to spend a long night out in this
desert—and it’s all going to be your fault.”
Kendrick scowled, fed up.
“What is your problem with me?” he demanded.
Naten scowled back, confronting him.
“Our lives were perfect,” he said.
“Before you showed up.”
“I haven’t ruined your precious Ridge,”
Kendrick snapped.
“It seems like you’ve ruined every place
you’ve come from,” Naten countered.
“You lack respect,” Kendrick replied.
“And hospitality. Two sacred virtues. As much as I dislike you, I would have
welcomed you into my homeland, a stranger. I would have even fought for you.”
Naten scoffed.
“Then we are very different people,” he
replied. “I would not fight for you—and if I had my choice, I would never let
you into our—”
Suddenly, a shriek cut through the air,
interrupting them, raising the hair on the back of Kendrick’s spine.
And then, complete chaos.
Before Kendrick could grasp what was
happening, he heard a man cry out in pain, an awful shriek, and out of the corner
of his eye, he saw something dark and hairy drop down from the sky and land on
his throat.
Kendrick turned as he sensed motion from
up above.
“TREE CLINGERS!” a man shouted.
Kendrick looked up and was horrified to
see that the thick branches of the tree were filled with glowing yellow eyes. A
group of small monsters, with black fur and long claws and fangs, looking like
sloths, began to reveal themselves, jumping out of the branches and leaping
onto the men. Their claws shined in the air, several feet long, as sharp as
swords, and they raised them high and swung them down like machetes, jumping right
for the group of men.
Kendrick reached to draw his sword, but
it was too late. Before he could react, a tree clinger, its long claws
extended, swung right for his face—and there was nothing he could do to stop
it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Boku hung on the crucifix that the
Empire soldiers had nailed him to days ago, the last of his people alive since
the great slaughter, somehow, despite his wishes, still clinging to life. He
had stopped feeling the pain and agony—that had passed days ago. He no longer
felt the agony searing through his palms, no longer felt
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