Read Online Jane Carver of Waar by Nathan Long - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nathan Long
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edge and did the old Wile E. Coyote step into thin air. A dozen more were right behind them. The air was filled with squawking screeching plummeting bodies. Looking back I saw our four guards bulldozed off the cliff by a tidal wave of unstoppable bird-flesh. Ahead of us, down the trail, krae were bouncing off the path between sprinting Aarurrh girls.
We were actually lucky that the damn things ran so fast, because momentum arced most of them over the narrow trail and straight into the ravine. It was like riding behind a solid, feathered waterfall. Unfortunately, a lot of the birdbrained things tripped at the edge. It reminded me of that Indiana Jones movie where the temple collapses and big chunks of stone drop all around the hero, only with giant birds. Far down the path an Aarurrh mama was punched off the trail like an eight ball getting knocked into a corner pocket. Right in front of us a young Aarurrh girl got clobbered on the hindquarters and went down all splay-legged and half off the trail.
Queenie, the idiot, stopped to help her up. Krae were hitting like depth charges all around us. One grazed Queenie’s shoulder, and mine. Queenie didn’t flinch. She got the poor girl’s hind legs back on the trail and had her halfway to her feet when we heard a roaring behind us.
A Barahir warrior, some crazed berserker who couldn’t wait for the rain of krae to stop, charged down on us in full, four-legged gallop mode, two swords held high. Queenie shoved the wounded girl down the trail and tried to follow, but Two-Swords was on us way too fast. One sword slashed Queenie low on the left back leg. The other would have took my head off, except I ducked.
Queenie went down, howling. I got thrown clear and crashed into some low scrub. Good old low gravity. I hopped up, unhurt except for a few scrapes, and looked around. Two-Swords was raising his blades for the killing blow.
If I’d thought about it, I’d have remembered that Queenie was my enemy and I was her slave. After all that “good girl” and “bad girl” stuff I should have been happy to see her buy the farm. I wasn’t. I still liked her. So I didn’t think at all.
My hand grabbed a rock. My legs sprang. I landed right between Two-Swords’ shoulder blades and swung with the rock. I put it inside his skull easier than breaking an egg. Two-Swords dropped, his head a concave half-moon, red and wet. My hand was drenched in blood. I’d killed a guy. Another one. I wanted to call a time out and wash myself before I puked.
I looked up. Queenie was staring, amazed. She’d seen my leap, and probably had a better idea than I did what it took to crush an Aarurrh’s skull. I shrugged, still dazed.
No time for interrogation though. A full company of Barahir was barreling down at us. Queenie snatched me up again and we galloped down the trail. Queenie cried out in pain from her slashed leg every time we leaped the body of a dying krae or dead Aarurrh girl.
Before us, down in the ravine, I saw that the alarm had been raised, but maybe not soon enough. Our boys were still scrambling into their harnesses and galloping up to form a ragged line of defense, snatching up swords and spears as they came. But the double line of Baharir charging behind us was like a railroad spike shot from a bazooka. Nothing short of a steel wall was going to stop it. Ours was barely under construction.
The front line parted as we roared through, then closed up again behind us, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. I could hear the smack of flesh on flesh as the two fronts met. It sounded like the Packers and the Jets coming together after the snap, except with a car wreck mixed in.
Queenie pulled up near Kitten and a cluster of other Hirrarah women and started to herd them further into the camp. Hirrarah men raced past us toward the front, which had crumbled almost instantly. The Barahir had plowed through the center and done end-run plays around the edges. Now they were fanning through
We were actually lucky that the damn things ran so fast, because momentum arced most of them over the narrow trail and straight into the ravine. It was like riding behind a solid, feathered waterfall. Unfortunately, a lot of the birdbrained things tripped at the edge. It reminded me of that Indiana Jones movie where the temple collapses and big chunks of stone drop all around the hero, only with giant birds. Far down the path an Aarurrh mama was punched off the trail like an eight ball getting knocked into a corner pocket. Right in front of us a young Aarurrh girl got clobbered on the hindquarters and went down all splay-legged and half off the trail.
Queenie, the idiot, stopped to help her up. Krae were hitting like depth charges all around us. One grazed Queenie’s shoulder, and mine. Queenie didn’t flinch. She got the poor girl’s hind legs back on the trail and had her halfway to her feet when we heard a roaring behind us.
A Barahir warrior, some crazed berserker who couldn’t wait for the rain of krae to stop, charged down on us in full, four-legged gallop mode, two swords held high. Queenie shoved the wounded girl down the trail and tried to follow, but Two-Swords was on us way too fast. One sword slashed Queenie low on the left back leg. The other would have took my head off, except I ducked.
Queenie went down, howling. I got thrown clear and crashed into some low scrub. Good old low gravity. I hopped up, unhurt except for a few scrapes, and looked around. Two-Swords was raising his blades for the killing blow.
If I’d thought about it, I’d have remembered that Queenie was my enemy and I was her slave. After all that “good girl” and “bad girl” stuff I should have been happy to see her buy the farm. I wasn’t. I still liked her. So I didn’t think at all.
My hand grabbed a rock. My legs sprang. I landed right between Two-Swords’ shoulder blades and swung with the rock. I put it inside his skull easier than breaking an egg. Two-Swords dropped, his head a concave half-moon, red and wet. My hand was drenched in blood. I’d killed a guy. Another one. I wanted to call a time out and wash myself before I puked.
I looked up. Queenie was staring, amazed. She’d seen my leap, and probably had a better idea than I did what it took to crush an Aarurrh’s skull. I shrugged, still dazed.
No time for interrogation though. A full company of Barahir was barreling down at us. Queenie snatched me up again and we galloped down the trail. Queenie cried out in pain from her slashed leg every time we leaped the body of a dying krae or dead Aarurrh girl.
Before us, down in the ravine, I saw that the alarm had been raised, but maybe not soon enough. Our boys were still scrambling into their harnesses and galloping up to form a ragged line of defense, snatching up swords and spears as they came. But the double line of Baharir charging behind us was like a railroad spike shot from a bazooka. Nothing short of a steel wall was going to stop it. Ours was barely under construction.
The front line parted as we roared through, then closed up again behind us, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close. I could hear the smack of flesh on flesh as the two fronts met. It sounded like the Packers and the Jets coming together after the snap, except with a car wreck mixed in.
Queenie pulled up near Kitten and a cluster of other Hirrarah women and started to herd them further into the camp. Hirrarah men raced past us toward the front, which had crumbled almost instantly. The Barahir had plowed through the center and done end-run plays around the edges. Now they were fanning through
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