Read Online The Hermetica of Elysium (Elysium Texts Series) by Annmarie Banks - Free Book Online
Authors: Annmarie Banks
Ads: Link
his response. He shifted the axe head to the other shoulder and turned the blade up so she couldn’t see him. “I will see to it when we camp next,” he said quietly. “You must attend to Marcus.”
She was doubtful that Marcus would live, but she would not speak those words. He does not think so, either, but I will not be the first to say it. Her eyes rested on his leg again. The blood was running into his boot.
The path became difficult as the drop became even steeper. Nadira tried to help brace Garreth over the rough ground as he picked his way down. There was no sign of another attack. They saw nothing move save for the large black birds flying in the opposite direction.
She knew where they were going.
CHAPTER FIVE
N IGHT came before they could escape the mountain. They built no fire for fear of the wild men, and ate nothing. Nadira doubted she could have choked anything down even if they had the horses and all their baggage. She lay awake on the hard ground most of the night as the men took turns on watch, all of them desperate for the faint glow in the east. Clouds blanketed the sky from horizon to horizon and delayed the feeble sun. She turned her head to the side. Montrose lay stretched out in the dry leaves, deeply asleep. Alisdair saw her move and stepped over to kneel beside her.
“Ah, lass, look at him.” Alisdair shook his head. “I’ll not wake him just yet. Let’s leave him be,” he whispered. “We don’t need to get movin’ any further without the horses. Garreth’s gone out to find t’ boys and see if the hairy bastards missed one or two.”
Nadira sat up and pulled twigs from her hair. Marcus lay to her left where Garreth had tenderly set him down the night before. He had not moved nor made a sound the entire night. She touched his throat.
Alisdair gestured with his chin. “How does Marc?”
“He is far away.” Nadira whispered, not meeting his eyes. Her heart felt crushed. She had little hope for Marcus. The last time she checked the swelling she felt the bones move under her fingers.
She had not mentioned this to anyone. What good would it do? Alisdair rearranged his legs and rested his arms on his knees. He bowed his head. She cast furtive glances at him. He did not appear to be wounded. As with the other men, he was caked with the effects of battle. His brigandine was dull and brown, bits of leaves and sticks stuck to the metal studs that stippled the leather. Even his bright red hair hung in crusted ropes, most of the braids undone, but glued together nonetheless. Nadira tried not to think about what she could smell all around her, but the pervasive stink of death would not be ignored.
Montrose coughed suddenly and sat straight up, eyes wide, snorting. Alisdair leapt to his feet and stepped over Nadira with his long legs.
“Here, Rob,” he went down on one knee and took Montrose’s shoulders in his hands. “Here. We’re safe.”
The wild eyes focused on his friend, then flashed to the sky, looking for the sun. “Why did you let me sleep so long?”
“Aye, well.” Alisdair shook his shoulder once before releasing him. “Aye, well,” he deflected, “here’s the lass, ready to tend to you.”
“And Marc?”
Alisdair did not reply so quickly to that question. “He’s alive, Rob, survived the night.”
Montrose leaned stiffly to the side and peered into Marcus’ face. To Nadira he said, “And you?”
“I am well, my lord.”
“Let the lass see to you, Rob. You’ve been leakin’ all night.” Alisdair indicated the dark stains in the dry leaves behind him. Montrose lifted his right arm slowly and looked down at his side. The leather brigandine came apart where the axe had struck him. With a resigned sigh, he shrugged his shirt up far enough for Alisdair to grab hold of the edges and pull it all the way over his head. Alisdair tugged the remaining pieces away from Montrose’s tunic where it was bonded to his side with blood.
The three of them examined
She was doubtful that Marcus would live, but she would not speak those words. He does not think so, either, but I will not be the first to say it. Her eyes rested on his leg again. The blood was running into his boot.
The path became difficult as the drop became even steeper. Nadira tried to help brace Garreth over the rough ground as he picked his way down. There was no sign of another attack. They saw nothing move save for the large black birds flying in the opposite direction.
She knew where they were going.
CHAPTER FIVE
N IGHT came before they could escape the mountain. They built no fire for fear of the wild men, and ate nothing. Nadira doubted she could have choked anything down even if they had the horses and all their baggage. She lay awake on the hard ground most of the night as the men took turns on watch, all of them desperate for the faint glow in the east. Clouds blanketed the sky from horizon to horizon and delayed the feeble sun. She turned her head to the side. Montrose lay stretched out in the dry leaves, deeply asleep. Alisdair saw her move and stepped over to kneel beside her.
“Ah, lass, look at him.” Alisdair shook his head. “I’ll not wake him just yet. Let’s leave him be,” he whispered. “We don’t need to get movin’ any further without the horses. Garreth’s gone out to find t’ boys and see if the hairy bastards missed one or two.”
Nadira sat up and pulled twigs from her hair. Marcus lay to her left where Garreth had tenderly set him down the night before. He had not moved nor made a sound the entire night. She touched his throat.
Alisdair gestured with his chin. “How does Marc?”
“He is far away.” Nadira whispered, not meeting his eyes. Her heart felt crushed. She had little hope for Marcus. The last time she checked the swelling she felt the bones move under her fingers.
She had not mentioned this to anyone. What good would it do? Alisdair rearranged his legs and rested his arms on his knees. He bowed his head. She cast furtive glances at him. He did not appear to be wounded. As with the other men, he was caked with the effects of battle. His brigandine was dull and brown, bits of leaves and sticks stuck to the metal studs that stippled the leather. Even his bright red hair hung in crusted ropes, most of the braids undone, but glued together nonetheless. Nadira tried not to think about what she could smell all around her, but the pervasive stink of death would not be ignored.
Montrose coughed suddenly and sat straight up, eyes wide, snorting. Alisdair leapt to his feet and stepped over Nadira with his long legs.
“Here, Rob,” he went down on one knee and took Montrose’s shoulders in his hands. “Here. We’re safe.”
The wild eyes focused on his friend, then flashed to the sky, looking for the sun. “Why did you let me sleep so long?”
“Aye, well.” Alisdair shook his shoulder once before releasing him. “Aye, well,” he deflected, “here’s the lass, ready to tend to you.”
“And Marc?”
Alisdair did not reply so quickly to that question. “He’s alive, Rob, survived the night.”
Montrose leaned stiffly to the side and peered into Marcus’ face. To Nadira he said, “And you?”
“I am well, my lord.”
“Let the lass see to you, Rob. You’ve been leakin’ all night.” Alisdair indicated the dark stains in the dry leaves behind him. Montrose lifted his right arm slowly and looked down at his side. The leather brigandine came apart where the axe had struck him. With a resigned sigh, he shrugged his shirt up far enough for Alisdair to grab hold of the edges and pull it all the way over his head. Alisdair tugged the remaining pieces away from Montrose’s tunic where it was bonded to his side with blood.
The three of them examined
Similar Books
