Read Online Servant of a Dark God by John Brown - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Brown
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, Fantasy, Epic, Fantasy - General, Science Fiction And Fantasy, Good and Evil
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screamed, reared, and threw its rider.
“Sugar!” Legs called out.
She turned and saw him holding his hand to his chest. His hand was bleeding. She’d been wrong: one of the arrows had found a mark.
She could do nothing against soldiers. But she could help her brother.
“Open the door!” she shouted.
“I can’t,” he said.
He could, but was too frightened to do anything. The wisterwife charm he always kept about his neck had falled out of his tunic. Sugar hoped the wisterwives were indeed looking out for them. But the wisterwives would be able to do nothing if they let the house burn down on top of them. Sugar tore herself from the battle that raged out front and crawled to her brother.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“We’re going to the woods,” said Sugar. “And then . . .” And then she didn’t know where. No, they’d go to Horse.
She opened the door.
Fancy was gone. She looked out through the haze and billows of smoke to the edges of the yard and could see her nowhere. But neither could she see any soldiers. They all must have run to the front of the house to join the battle.
A log above them made a deafening burst.
“Take my hand,” said Sugar. “We’re going to run to the pond, and from there the river. Are you ready?”
There was an immense whoosh, and the heat at Sugar’s back seemed to increase tenfold.
“Now,” she said. And she and Legs bolted from the house. Down the path they went between the barn and the pheasant house.
When Legs knew a course, he only needed to know where he was at any moment and whether any new obstacles lay in the path. He did not count steps or need to feel about him.
They had taken the path to the new pond many times, for Legs loved the feel of the sun-heated water. And so Sugar only needed to call out his orientation points as they came to them. They ran past the garden and privy to Mother’s pheasant house.
Three of the soldiers far to her right fled the battle. She looked back, hoping to see that Mother and Da had scattered the small army.
The whole roof of the house raged with fire; the immense flames wheezed and roared dozens of feet into the sky. Beyond the fire, Da and Mother stood side by side. With one hand Mother pressed her wound; in the other she held a sword. Da held an axe and shield.
It appeared they had put the soldiers to flight. But then the soldiers stopped and turned, forming a line. They weren’t fleeing, they were making a space so that the bowmen could shoot without killing a number of their own.
Legs tugged on her.
Mother tried to charge the line, but Da stepped in front of her to stand between her and the soldiers.
The bowmen loosed their arrows. These did not fly wide this time, and despite Da shielding her from most of the shafts, Mother fell to the earth.
Da’s battle cry sounded over the raging of the fire. He too charged. The arrows did not penetrate his armor, but a multitude of spears did.
A shout of triumph rose up from the mob.
“Sugar?” asked Legs.
The fire blazed into the sky. The heat, even at this distance, burned her face. She could not catch her breath.
The soldiers converged upon Da like a pack of wild dogs.
She watched their weapons rise and fall. Some began to run toward Mother, but the Crab shouted and brandished his sword to keep them away.
It was a nightmare, but Sugar could not tear her eyes from it.
A man raised a black sword high over Da. That was a Fire blade from the temple.
No, she thought. No.
Then the man swung the sword down like he was chopping a mighty block of wood and hacked Da’s head from his body.
She could not move. Could barely breathe. The Crab waved the black-bladed man away from Mother. Then a soldier pointed at her and Legs.
“Sugar,” said Legs. “Why are we stopped?”
She realized he had been asking her that over and over. His voice seemed to come from a great distance. It seemed she was watching the whole scene from a great distance.
“It’s
“Sugar!” Legs called out.
She turned and saw him holding his hand to his chest. His hand was bleeding. She’d been wrong: one of the arrows had found a mark.
She could do nothing against soldiers. But she could help her brother.
“Open the door!” she shouted.
“I can’t,” he said.
He could, but was too frightened to do anything. The wisterwife charm he always kept about his neck had falled out of his tunic. Sugar hoped the wisterwives were indeed looking out for them. But the wisterwives would be able to do nothing if they let the house burn down on top of them. Sugar tore herself from the battle that raged out front and crawled to her brother.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“We’re going to the woods,” said Sugar. “And then . . .” And then she didn’t know where. No, they’d go to Horse.
She opened the door.
Fancy was gone. She looked out through the haze and billows of smoke to the edges of the yard and could see her nowhere. But neither could she see any soldiers. They all must have run to the front of the house to join the battle.
A log above them made a deafening burst.
“Take my hand,” said Sugar. “We’re going to run to the pond, and from there the river. Are you ready?”
There was an immense whoosh, and the heat at Sugar’s back seemed to increase tenfold.
“Now,” she said. And she and Legs bolted from the house. Down the path they went between the barn and the pheasant house.
When Legs knew a course, he only needed to know where he was at any moment and whether any new obstacles lay in the path. He did not count steps or need to feel about him.
They had taken the path to the new pond many times, for Legs loved the feel of the sun-heated water. And so Sugar only needed to call out his orientation points as they came to them. They ran past the garden and privy to Mother’s pheasant house.
Three of the soldiers far to her right fled the battle. She looked back, hoping to see that Mother and Da had scattered the small army.
The whole roof of the house raged with fire; the immense flames wheezed and roared dozens of feet into the sky. Beyond the fire, Da and Mother stood side by side. With one hand Mother pressed her wound; in the other she held a sword. Da held an axe and shield.
It appeared they had put the soldiers to flight. But then the soldiers stopped and turned, forming a line. They weren’t fleeing, they were making a space so that the bowmen could shoot without killing a number of their own.
Legs tugged on her.
Mother tried to charge the line, but Da stepped in front of her to stand between her and the soldiers.
The bowmen loosed their arrows. These did not fly wide this time, and despite Da shielding her from most of the shafts, Mother fell to the earth.
Da’s battle cry sounded over the raging of the fire. He too charged. The arrows did not penetrate his armor, but a multitude of spears did.
A shout of triumph rose up from the mob.
“Sugar?” asked Legs.
The fire blazed into the sky. The heat, even at this distance, burned her face. She could not catch her breath.
The soldiers converged upon Da like a pack of wild dogs.
She watched their weapons rise and fall. Some began to run toward Mother, but the Crab shouted and brandished his sword to keep them away.
It was a nightmare, but Sugar could not tear her eyes from it.
A man raised a black sword high over Da. That was a Fire blade from the temple.
No, she thought. No.
Then the man swung the sword down like he was chopping a mighty block of wood and hacked Da’s head from his body.
She could not move. Could barely breathe. The Crab waved the black-bladed man away from Mother. Then a soldier pointed at her and Legs.
“Sugar,” said Legs. “Why are we stopped?”
She realized he had been asking her that over and over. His voice seemed to come from a great distance. It seemed she was watching the whole scene from a great distance.
“It’s
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