Read Online Touch of Iron (The Living Blade #1) by Timandra Whitecastle - Free Book Online
Authors: Timandra Whitecastle
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dwindling. All cut down by the Living Blade. If it existed, the Living Blade brought nothing but death.
“Hey up, duck.” The man was standing in the garden now, peering at the trees with a beer stein in his hand.
Nora could just make him out in the pale light. He edged closer, his feet going high over the random obstacles that lay in his way. He was tall and strongly built. His dark blond hair had been groomed carefully, and he wore no beard. He walked with confidence, though his run-in with the chair had made him limp a little. He looked not much older than Nora herself, nor as drunk as she would have liked him to be. He wore a shirt and trousers, but no armor, and he carried no weapon as far as Nora could see, only a leash in his other hand. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Her first instinct was to run. Run far away. Her second thought was more coherent. Run to the Vale. Raise the alarm. Get help. Get Wolfe and his father to come back here on horseback and ride this rabble down. Her hand tightened its grasp on the knife’s hilt. But Becca would have to suffer through one more night. There was no other help. They were alone. It would be like slaughtering animals, wouldn’t it? How many animals had she cleaned in her cooking life? Sneak up close. No leather jerkin, no coat, stab under ribs from behind. Stab hard.
Rannoch’s voice echoed through her mind. Stab hard , he had said when they were slaughtering the pigs just a few days ago. Or was it a week or two? Seemed to be another life entirely. He’d said, Skin’s tougher than you think . And every life fights . Was that why they had cut off his hands? Because her father fought back? Her jaw hurt from gritting her teeth. When she unclenched them, her jaw clicked audibly.
The man was closer now. He stood under the branches of the first tree. His lips were full and soft.
“There you are, duck.”
Becca whimpered.
“Don’t you want to play no more?” He swung the leash playfully round.
“Go away,” Becca said, dangling one foot over the rim of rock. “Please just go away.”
“Come away from that edge. You’ll hurt yourself if you fall. We don’t want to get hurt now, do we?”
Nora edged around the tree trunk. Focus on the knife’s edge. Work fast. Clean up when you’re done.
“Please just go away.” Becca started to weep once more.
Nora stepped softly on the wet leaves, crouched low. Her feet made no noise. Her fingers were cold, so cold. And her head was so hot, blood pounding in her ears and cheeks.
“You know I can’t do that, duck. I can’t let you hurt yourself now, can I?”
The man let the leash drop before Becca’s feet.
“See?” he said, raising his empty hands. “Nothing to be afraid of. Now step away from the edge.”
“No.” Becca shook her head. Her ash-blonde hair shone silver in the moonlight.
“I said step away!” The man’s voice changed now. It was harder, with a steel edge that reminded Nora of Prince Bashan, the jerk. Gods, Owen! Let him be safe! At least he wasn’t here.
“No!” Becca screamed in defiance.
For a moment, only Becca’s sobs could be heard over the wind. The man lifted his shoulders and squared them. He sighed. Just a few more steps before she could reach him. Nora halted and held her breath behind him. Stab hard.
“No is not an option!” he yelled and grabbed a strand of Becca’s hair with his fist, forcing her to the ground.
Becca screamed.
Nora stabbed down hard.
The man gasped and twisted around to see her. She’d missed the heart. Nora’s hand nearly slipped off the hilt in fright. She yanked the knife out, staring at the man’s face. He looked at her in surprise, mouth open wide. His eyes were a dark blue, and the stubble on his chin was light as straw. He dropped to one knee before Nora, a gargling sound coming out of his mouth. With a deft stroke, Nora sliced down with her knife and slit half of his throat open. He fell and died at her feet, twitching. She
“Hey up, duck.” The man was standing in the garden now, peering at the trees with a beer stein in his hand.
Nora could just make him out in the pale light. He edged closer, his feet going high over the random obstacles that lay in his way. He was tall and strongly built. His dark blond hair had been groomed carefully, and he wore no beard. He walked with confidence, though his run-in with the chair had made him limp a little. He looked not much older than Nora herself, nor as drunk as she would have liked him to be. He wore a shirt and trousers, but no armor, and he carried no weapon as far as Nora could see, only a leash in his other hand. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Her first instinct was to run. Run far away. Her second thought was more coherent. Run to the Vale. Raise the alarm. Get help. Get Wolfe and his father to come back here on horseback and ride this rabble down. Her hand tightened its grasp on the knife’s hilt. But Becca would have to suffer through one more night. There was no other help. They were alone. It would be like slaughtering animals, wouldn’t it? How many animals had she cleaned in her cooking life? Sneak up close. No leather jerkin, no coat, stab under ribs from behind. Stab hard.
Rannoch’s voice echoed through her mind. Stab hard , he had said when they were slaughtering the pigs just a few days ago. Or was it a week or two? Seemed to be another life entirely. He’d said, Skin’s tougher than you think . And every life fights . Was that why they had cut off his hands? Because her father fought back? Her jaw hurt from gritting her teeth. When she unclenched them, her jaw clicked audibly.
The man was closer now. He stood under the branches of the first tree. His lips were full and soft.
“There you are, duck.”
Becca whimpered.
“Don’t you want to play no more?” He swung the leash playfully round.
“Go away,” Becca said, dangling one foot over the rim of rock. “Please just go away.”
“Come away from that edge. You’ll hurt yourself if you fall. We don’t want to get hurt now, do we?”
Nora edged around the tree trunk. Focus on the knife’s edge. Work fast. Clean up when you’re done.
“Please just go away.” Becca started to weep once more.
Nora stepped softly on the wet leaves, crouched low. Her feet made no noise. Her fingers were cold, so cold. And her head was so hot, blood pounding in her ears and cheeks.
“You know I can’t do that, duck. I can’t let you hurt yourself now, can I?”
The man let the leash drop before Becca’s feet.
“See?” he said, raising his empty hands. “Nothing to be afraid of. Now step away from the edge.”
“No.” Becca shook her head. Her ash-blonde hair shone silver in the moonlight.
“I said step away!” The man’s voice changed now. It was harder, with a steel edge that reminded Nora of Prince Bashan, the jerk. Gods, Owen! Let him be safe! At least he wasn’t here.
“No!” Becca screamed in defiance.
For a moment, only Becca’s sobs could be heard over the wind. The man lifted his shoulders and squared them. He sighed. Just a few more steps before she could reach him. Nora halted and held her breath behind him. Stab hard.
“No is not an option!” he yelled and grabbed a strand of Becca’s hair with his fist, forcing her to the ground.
Becca screamed.
Nora stabbed down hard.
The man gasped and twisted around to see her. She’d missed the heart. Nora’s hand nearly slipped off the hilt in fright. She yanked the knife out, staring at the man’s face. He looked at her in surprise, mouth open wide. His eyes were a dark blue, and the stubble on his chin was light as straw. He dropped to one knee before Nora, a gargling sound coming out of his mouth. With a deft stroke, Nora sliced down with her knife and slit half of his throat open. He fell and died at her feet, twitching. She
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