Read Online Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God by Barry Gibbons - Free Book Online Page A

we'll have to take." Damion tore the Dragon Sword from its sheath, then spurred Storm forward.
It took several minutes to catch up with the beleaguered caravan, and they could hear the sound of fighting long before the wagons came into sight. They finally rounded a slight bend in the road and saw the wagon train just ahead. The mercenaries were fighting valiantly against the mob of bandits, but they were badly outnumbered, and one by one, they were falling, leaving the teamsters defenseless.
Damion charged into the fray without hesitating, the Dragon Sword carving a wide path of destruction through the highwaymen. Storm effortlessly road down several of the men, crushing their bones beneath his churning hooves, while Raven began to rain arrows down upon them with lightening speed.
Shirk began laying about the now terrified bandits with a brutal looking mace, which appeared to be little more than a lump of lead with a handle. He wielded the simple weapon efficiently though, braining three men consecutively, before wheeling his horse around in search of more victims.
One of the bandits suddenly leapt at Damion from atop one of the wagons in an effort to knock him from his saddle, but Storm nimbly danced to one side as the huge warrior lashed out with a powerful blow. The Dragon Sword bit into the man's waist, slashing through flesh and bone effortlessly as it sliced the bandit clean in half.
The last few men turned and fled in terror from the vicious onslaught, leaving their injured and dead behind.
"That was fun!" Shirk laughed gaily , trying to shake a bit of brain matter from his mace. "It's been a while since I have been in a good fight!"
"Thank the gods you arrived when you did!" One of the teamsters exclaimed, crawling out from beneath his wagon. "I thought we were goners for sure!"
"We're happy to be of service." Damion assured him, hoping that the men didn't recognize him. "We heard the sounds of fighting and saw you and your men in distress, so we decided to intervene."
"They killed Karl!" One of the other teamsters reported, appearing from behind another wagon, shaking his head sadly. "He took an arrow right in the eye!"
"And he was the one who warned us that this may happen." The first man said mournfully. "We should have stopped in Sevria and hired a few more men to help fend off those animals!"
All in all, two of the teamsters, and all of the mercenaries had been killed in the attack, but four of the wagoneers had somehow managed to survive.
They took a few minutes to dispose of their friends' bodies and look over the wagons to be sure nothing had been damaged in the attack, then the teamsters gathered together to discuss their options.
"It's another two weeks until we reach Faldor's plantation." One of the teamsters, an elderly man with a ragged scar running down one side of his face, pointed out to his fellow wagoneers. "We'll never survive another attack without some protection."
The teamsters all turned to look at the companions.
"Would it be possible for us to make use of your services?" The old man asked hopefully. "At least until we are clear of these damned mountains? You've already proven that you are formidable folk to deal with, and I don't think we'll stand a chance without your help."
"And just what would you be offering as payment?" Shirk's eyes had suddenly brightened.
The teamsters converse d amongst one another for a moment. "How does ten gold apiece sound?" The elderly man asked hopefully.
The bearded man shook his head firmly. "I think twenty sounds better. Remember, it's still a long way before you reach the foothills. There are all sorts of nasty little things in these mountains that would enjoy such easy prey. I think that makes our services worth quite a bit, don't you?"
"What are you doing?" Damion hissed at him as the men began to converse amongst themselves again. "This is the perfect way to follow them without them even realizing it!"
"Of course it is," Shirk mumbled back under his breath,