Read Online Champions Battle for the Fate of the Future!: The Wild Finale of (Swords Versus Tanks Book 5) by M Harold Page - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M Harold Page
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heart leapt. That was Maud.
"See how the sorceress lacks even the feminine virtue of Meekness and Obedience!"
That was Archbishop Grossi.
"God's teeth, now , Milady! Or shall I carry you?" Ranulph's voice, clipped and to the point. Jasmine's mouth went dry. If she got the drop on them, they'd be POWs — better than the alternative. She turned to address her half-dozen Egality tankers. "We..." she began, then realised she was sounding breathless. Could she do it? Ranulph would say that depended on God's Will. Lose the religious garbage, and it came down to — what would happen would happen, there was no point in getting worked up about it.
Jasmine beckoned them forward. "Stay on my left. Don't shoot unless I do." She led them deeper into the darkened library, putting the longship between them and the arguing couple. The sleek hull was perhaps ten metres long. At the prow, two snub-nosed wooden dragons all but nuzzled the library's back wall. Throw in a velvet rope and a plaque and it could have been a museum exhibit. She levelled her Stormgun and ducked under the carved snouts.
Sir Ranulph held aloft an oil lantern, which illuminated Maud like a spotlight.
Clad in a fetching chainmail mini-dress, the red-haired princess danced this way and that, one hand pulling out books at random, alternately dropping them on the floor, or stuffing them into a standard issue kitbag which hung over her shoulder. She held the other hand clutched to her mailed chest. Even at a distance, the fingers looked bloody and bruised. Had anybody thought to clean her up and apply a dressing? Now Jasmine looked properly, bruises blotched the girl's bare legs. A cold compress would have helped there too, and perhaps a massage to help her relax...
The knight looked fine, except that his clothes glinted wetly and there was a slight sag to his shoulders. The battle had taken its toll, but he had more life in him than a battalion of Elitist Stormwarriors.
Had they made love yet? Did they talk about her? Compare notes?
The Archbishop's gaze met Jasmine's and he raised his eyebrows. He looked like a smug toad, except that his wrists were bound and he had blood trickling from a fresh knife cut on his cheek. How had things gone so badly wrong that this monster was her ally?
With a mental shrug, jasmine drew breath and barked, "Freeze."
Sir Ranulph heaved the Archbishop around in front of him. "How good is your shooting, Colonel?"
Maud's eyes flashed like emeralds. "Hello, Jasmine."
"It's Field Marshal now," said Jasmine, addressing Ranulph. But facing the giant knight and the red-haired Princess, she'd didn't even feel like a soldier anymore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A chill ran over Ranulph's skin. The world shrank to just the muzzle of Jasmine’s fat-barrelled gun. The other soldiers’ weapons would be lethal enough, but this monstrosity could rip off his arm, even had he been wearing runic armour. He forced himself to look her in the eye. "If you let us retreat, I will leave Grossi behind."
The Archbishop said, "Shoot! I am ready for martyrdom."
Jasmine cocked her head at her soldiers. "Not until I give the order."
"If Sir Ranulph falls, so does the lantern," said Maud. She laughed. "Those grimoires will make a fine pyre. Perhaps my fate is foreordained."
Without looking down, Ranulph nudged his mailed boot against the pile of rejected magic books. He would burn before he bled out. The sorceress had faced a similar death, but how did this give them bargaining power? Was this a hint that he should drop the lantern as a distraction, then attack? The Archbishop would make a fine shield, but a lot of bullets would be flying around. Maud's mail would be no protection and nor would his arrow charm.
The Archbishop coughed. "This knowledge has been gathered from the Four Quarters of the Earth. Surely you can see it must be preserved?"
"Preserved or hidden ?" asked Maud, sounding like Albrecht when he found some hole in Ranulph’s reasoning like
"See how the sorceress lacks even the feminine virtue of Meekness and Obedience!"
That was Archbishop Grossi.
"God's teeth, now , Milady! Or shall I carry you?" Ranulph's voice, clipped and to the point. Jasmine's mouth went dry. If she got the drop on them, they'd be POWs — better than the alternative. She turned to address her half-dozen Egality tankers. "We..." she began, then realised she was sounding breathless. Could she do it? Ranulph would say that depended on God's Will. Lose the religious garbage, and it came down to — what would happen would happen, there was no point in getting worked up about it.
Jasmine beckoned them forward. "Stay on my left. Don't shoot unless I do." She led them deeper into the darkened library, putting the longship between them and the arguing couple. The sleek hull was perhaps ten metres long. At the prow, two snub-nosed wooden dragons all but nuzzled the library's back wall. Throw in a velvet rope and a plaque and it could have been a museum exhibit. She levelled her Stormgun and ducked under the carved snouts.
Sir Ranulph held aloft an oil lantern, which illuminated Maud like a spotlight.
Clad in a fetching chainmail mini-dress, the red-haired princess danced this way and that, one hand pulling out books at random, alternately dropping them on the floor, or stuffing them into a standard issue kitbag which hung over her shoulder. She held the other hand clutched to her mailed chest. Even at a distance, the fingers looked bloody and bruised. Had anybody thought to clean her up and apply a dressing? Now Jasmine looked properly, bruises blotched the girl's bare legs. A cold compress would have helped there too, and perhaps a massage to help her relax...
The knight looked fine, except that his clothes glinted wetly and there was a slight sag to his shoulders. The battle had taken its toll, but he had more life in him than a battalion of Elitist Stormwarriors.
Had they made love yet? Did they talk about her? Compare notes?
The Archbishop's gaze met Jasmine's and he raised his eyebrows. He looked like a smug toad, except that his wrists were bound and he had blood trickling from a fresh knife cut on his cheek. How had things gone so badly wrong that this monster was her ally?
With a mental shrug, jasmine drew breath and barked, "Freeze."
Sir Ranulph heaved the Archbishop around in front of him. "How good is your shooting, Colonel?"
Maud's eyes flashed like emeralds. "Hello, Jasmine."
"It's Field Marshal now," said Jasmine, addressing Ranulph. But facing the giant knight and the red-haired Princess, she'd didn't even feel like a soldier anymore.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A chill ran over Ranulph's skin. The world shrank to just the muzzle of Jasmine’s fat-barrelled gun. The other soldiers’ weapons would be lethal enough, but this monstrosity could rip off his arm, even had he been wearing runic armour. He forced himself to look her in the eye. "If you let us retreat, I will leave Grossi behind."
The Archbishop said, "Shoot! I am ready for martyrdom."
Jasmine cocked her head at her soldiers. "Not until I give the order."
"If Sir Ranulph falls, so does the lantern," said Maud. She laughed. "Those grimoires will make a fine pyre. Perhaps my fate is foreordained."
Without looking down, Ranulph nudged his mailed boot against the pile of rejected magic books. He would burn before he bled out. The sorceress had faced a similar death, but how did this give them bargaining power? Was this a hint that he should drop the lantern as a distraction, then attack? The Archbishop would make a fine shield, but a lot of bullets would be flying around. Maud's mail would be no protection and nor would his arrow charm.
The Archbishop coughed. "This knowledge has been gathered from the Four Quarters of the Earth. Surely you can see it must be preserved?"
"Preserved or hidden ?" asked Maud, sounding like Albrecht when he found some hole in Ranulph’s reasoning like
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