Read Online The Warrior (The Rebellion) by Jordan Magera - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jordan Magera
Ads: Link
around him felt like a dream. It seemed as if he was living in a mirage. Time began to move slowly, and all thoughts left his mind. Soon, he wasn’t aware of anything, just death.
Finely, feeling entered his limbs, and exhaustion weighed him down. His vision became clear and he found himself alone, surrounded by the dead. Silence filled the arena and Barst realized he could hear. He turned around to see his team staring at him with expressions ranging from fear to awe.
The spell broke, and a roar arose from the audience, yet his team still gaped at him as if he was a stranger. Barst, panting, wiped his sword off on a nearby body, and threw his weapon back into the sheath. He walked to his team, and they parted to let him pass. It wasn’t until half way through the tunnel that Brian caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, only to retract his hand, now slimy with blood.
"What was that?" Brian asked incredulously, wiping his bloody hand off on the wall of the tunnel.
"I was about to ask you that myself."
Brian quickened his steps until he came up alongside Barst. "Well, you took care of almost half their team. The rest of us did practically nothing. Why didn’t you tell us you were so good? We could have put you on a squad all by yourself."
Barst faintly smiled, "I wanted to live, that’s all."
Brian scoffed. "Well, I wished that happened to me when I wanted to live. Gee, I would be famous. Did you see how the whole crowd shut up? That was the best part. I'm pretty sure I saw Lord Barkley start sweating. You could upset the whole tournament."
They were now in the suiting room and Barst was pulling off his chain mail. He winced when the chains dragged against the cut on his arm. "Well I hope I do. Though Lord Barkley might want revenge."
"But he won't be able to touch you. You'll have become legend. People will be demanding your presence in every tournament all over the kingdom."
" And they won't get it." Barst said, wiping the blood from the wound on his leg "I'm done after this."
Brian nodded, and began to remove his bracers. The rest of the team was coming in, and they couldn’t resist throwing Barst some glances. "Do well, then get out. That’s a good idea. You have enough money saved up?"
Barst shook his head, "No, but I'll find a way to make more. I would rather die on the streets free, than live and be a prisoner in this arena.”
Brian nodded, and was about to reply, when Rudy's voice rang out over the din that had developed in the suiting room.
"Well done! We won, and now just have one fight between us and freedom. Leaders, collect your groups and count the losses."
Barst raised his hand and his group collected around him. Barst tried to ignore them, but he could feel Frank's eyes locked on him. They hadn't lost a man.
"So," said one of his spearmen, "wanna do that again?"
Barst couldn’t hold back a smile, yet it retreated off his face as quickly as it came. Slaughtering people was not a feat to take lightly. Yet he had trouble suppressing the giddy joy of being alive that was bubbling up inside of him. "No, that was a one-time deal. You're gonna have to actually do something next time."
"Hey I did something." The man replied with mock defensiveness. "I watched you."
Some of the men laughed, but they turned to Rudy as he began talking again. "Only four losses," he said, looking as if he barely believed it himself. "Well Barst, keep it up and the rest of you, way to spectate." Laughter filled the room and some people cheered. "All right we don't have to fight again until evening so if you’re hurt, go to a healer. Rest up, and the next battle will be in an hour. I know you will all watch it. Our survival may depend on it. We’ll get new uniforms on the way to the mess hall. They don't want us looking like slobs for the final battle."
Barst finished taking off his gear and, after being instructed to by the mage,
Finely, feeling entered his limbs, and exhaustion weighed him down. His vision became clear and he found himself alone, surrounded by the dead. Silence filled the arena and Barst realized he could hear. He turned around to see his team staring at him with expressions ranging from fear to awe.
The spell broke, and a roar arose from the audience, yet his team still gaped at him as if he was a stranger. Barst, panting, wiped his sword off on a nearby body, and threw his weapon back into the sheath. He walked to his team, and they parted to let him pass. It wasn’t until half way through the tunnel that Brian caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder, only to retract his hand, now slimy with blood.
"What was that?" Brian asked incredulously, wiping his bloody hand off on the wall of the tunnel.
"I was about to ask you that myself."
Brian quickened his steps until he came up alongside Barst. "Well, you took care of almost half their team. The rest of us did practically nothing. Why didn’t you tell us you were so good? We could have put you on a squad all by yourself."
Barst faintly smiled, "I wanted to live, that’s all."
Brian scoffed. "Well, I wished that happened to me when I wanted to live. Gee, I would be famous. Did you see how the whole crowd shut up? That was the best part. I'm pretty sure I saw Lord Barkley start sweating. You could upset the whole tournament."
They were now in the suiting room and Barst was pulling off his chain mail. He winced when the chains dragged against the cut on his arm. "Well I hope I do. Though Lord Barkley might want revenge."
"But he won't be able to touch you. You'll have become legend. People will be demanding your presence in every tournament all over the kingdom."
" And they won't get it." Barst said, wiping the blood from the wound on his leg "I'm done after this."
Brian nodded, and began to remove his bracers. The rest of the team was coming in, and they couldn’t resist throwing Barst some glances. "Do well, then get out. That’s a good idea. You have enough money saved up?"
Barst shook his head, "No, but I'll find a way to make more. I would rather die on the streets free, than live and be a prisoner in this arena.”
Brian nodded, and was about to reply, when Rudy's voice rang out over the din that had developed in the suiting room.
"Well done! We won, and now just have one fight between us and freedom. Leaders, collect your groups and count the losses."
Barst raised his hand and his group collected around him. Barst tried to ignore them, but he could feel Frank's eyes locked on him. They hadn't lost a man.
"So," said one of his spearmen, "wanna do that again?"
Barst couldn’t hold back a smile, yet it retreated off his face as quickly as it came. Slaughtering people was not a feat to take lightly. Yet he had trouble suppressing the giddy joy of being alive that was bubbling up inside of him. "No, that was a one-time deal. You're gonna have to actually do something next time."
"Hey I did something." The man replied with mock defensiveness. "I watched you."
Some of the men laughed, but they turned to Rudy as he began talking again. "Only four losses," he said, looking as if he barely believed it himself. "Well Barst, keep it up and the rest of you, way to spectate." Laughter filled the room and some people cheered. "All right we don't have to fight again until evening so if you’re hurt, go to a healer. Rest up, and the next battle will be in an hour. I know you will all watch it. Our survival may depend on it. We’ll get new uniforms on the way to the mess hall. They don't want us looking like slobs for the final battle."
Barst finished taking off his gear and, after being instructed to by the mage,
Similar Books
