Read Online The Queen's Gambit by Deborah Chester - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Deborah Chester
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water, knee deep if necessary, but as the boats came closer, he saw some of the raiders busy hauling forth large sacks of coarse wet cloth. They dumped the contents into the surf, and although he caught mere glimpses of bulbous heads and uncoiling tentacles, Talmor slowed his horse with a ruthless hand.
Twisting about in the saddle, he shouted, âAll of you! Stay out of the water, no matter what you do!â
Not waiting for anyone to respond, he veered Canae at a slightly different angle, slowing the reluctant horse yet more. He did not want the raiders to land, did not want their feet to pollute the shores of Durl, but he could see the monsters bobbing to the surface with flashes of dark liquid eyes before they dived beneath the waves. The water was boiling white, churned by oars and the rapid clutch of tentacles that coiled about dead, floating bodies and yanked them abruptly from sight.
With wailing cries, the raiders landed, running their boats right up onto the shore and jumping off in droves. They moved incredibly fast, seemingly unhampered by either the shallow waves or the deep sand. Brandishing cutlasses, daggers, and clubs, they were pale, muscular men, giants in height and brawn. Shirtless, they wore wide leggings cut short at the ankle and boots with studded soles. They had no hair. Every man was shaven and beardless, with smooth chests and hairless arms. As they called out and shouted, their language was guttural and harsh, impossible to understand.
They came in a rush, running faster across the sand thanTalmor expected. He tightened his loins, and Canae sprang forward at full charge, his hooves throwing up sprays of sand.
Talmorâs men followed the charge with war cries of their own. The raiders checked only slightly, their shouts rising into a shrill, earsplitting noise.
Then the rain reached the shore, and in the space of a heartbeat Talmor found himself engulfed in a heavy downpour. Canae snorted and stumbled beneath him, nearly pitching Talmor from the saddle. He steadied the horse and heard sounds of confusion and vicious oaths behind him.
The rain pelted down fiercely, mixed with hail. Flinching under it, Talmor saw the raiders running toward him, impervious to the elements. Their eyes glowed as though lit by fire. Red eyes, orange eyes, yellow . . . all the colors of flame.
Talmor stared at them in sick dread, for surely they were not men at all.
âDear Thod, what are they?â Sir Moule called out.
At once Talmor realized he was dangerously close to losing his men. If their nerve broke, if they ran, then Durl Hold was finished.
He cast aside his own fear and tightened his grip on his sword. âTheyâre our enemies, men!â he called out loudly. âAnd theyâre soon to die! For Durl!â
Kicking Canae into a startled gallop, he resumed his charge. Thudding hoofbeats behind him told him that his men followed.
Just before he reached the raiders, Talmor raised his sword and urged his horse faster. He was a fierce, bronze-faced man clad in full chain mail, his horse wearing armor like a great behemoth, unstoppable and fearless. Horse and rider crashed into the foremost Vvordsman. Canae knocked the raider down and trampled over the top of him, rearing up to strike down the next man with deadly forefeet as heâd been trained. Talmor swung his sword as the horse came down, and cut off the head of a third raider. Blood spurted across Talmorâs hand and wrist, and he noted with relief that these giants werenât demons at all but mortal. And heâd taken three down in the first moment.
Satisfied, he roared ferociously and attacked his next opponent. Around him he heard the sounds of his men crashing into the midst of the battle. The raidersâ cries became squeals of death as more went down. But others quickly filled their places, and within minutes they swarmed around Talmor on all sides, while Canae circled and kicked to keep him
Twisting about in the saddle, he shouted, âAll of you! Stay out of the water, no matter what you do!â
Not waiting for anyone to respond, he veered Canae at a slightly different angle, slowing the reluctant horse yet more. He did not want the raiders to land, did not want their feet to pollute the shores of Durl, but he could see the monsters bobbing to the surface with flashes of dark liquid eyes before they dived beneath the waves. The water was boiling white, churned by oars and the rapid clutch of tentacles that coiled about dead, floating bodies and yanked them abruptly from sight.
With wailing cries, the raiders landed, running their boats right up onto the shore and jumping off in droves. They moved incredibly fast, seemingly unhampered by either the shallow waves or the deep sand. Brandishing cutlasses, daggers, and clubs, they were pale, muscular men, giants in height and brawn. Shirtless, they wore wide leggings cut short at the ankle and boots with studded soles. They had no hair. Every man was shaven and beardless, with smooth chests and hairless arms. As they called out and shouted, their language was guttural and harsh, impossible to understand.
They came in a rush, running faster across the sand thanTalmor expected. He tightened his loins, and Canae sprang forward at full charge, his hooves throwing up sprays of sand.
Talmorâs men followed the charge with war cries of their own. The raiders checked only slightly, their shouts rising into a shrill, earsplitting noise.
Then the rain reached the shore, and in the space of a heartbeat Talmor found himself engulfed in a heavy downpour. Canae snorted and stumbled beneath him, nearly pitching Talmor from the saddle. He steadied the horse and heard sounds of confusion and vicious oaths behind him.
The rain pelted down fiercely, mixed with hail. Flinching under it, Talmor saw the raiders running toward him, impervious to the elements. Their eyes glowed as though lit by fire. Red eyes, orange eyes, yellow . . . all the colors of flame.
Talmor stared at them in sick dread, for surely they were not men at all.
âDear Thod, what are they?â Sir Moule called out.
At once Talmor realized he was dangerously close to losing his men. If their nerve broke, if they ran, then Durl Hold was finished.
He cast aside his own fear and tightened his grip on his sword. âTheyâre our enemies, men!â he called out loudly. âAnd theyâre soon to die! For Durl!â
Kicking Canae into a startled gallop, he resumed his charge. Thudding hoofbeats behind him told him that his men followed.
Just before he reached the raiders, Talmor raised his sword and urged his horse faster. He was a fierce, bronze-faced man clad in full chain mail, his horse wearing armor like a great behemoth, unstoppable and fearless. Horse and rider crashed into the foremost Vvordsman. Canae knocked the raider down and trampled over the top of him, rearing up to strike down the next man with deadly forefeet as heâd been trained. Talmor swung his sword as the horse came down, and cut off the head of a third raider. Blood spurted across Talmorâs hand and wrist, and he noted with relief that these giants werenât demons at all but mortal. And heâd taken three down in the first moment.
Satisfied, he roared ferociously and attacked his next opponent. Around him he heard the sounds of his men crashing into the midst of the battle. The raidersâ cries became squeals of death as more went down. But others quickly filled their places, and within minutes they swarmed around Talmor on all sides, while Canae circled and kicked to keep him
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