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.Kendril leaned down in the saddle and thrust the tip of his rapier into the neck of the second man.It was a good, clean hit, considering the speed of the horse, the rain and the darkness.That, and also considering that it had been years since Kendril had last rode a horse.Not to mention his throbbing thigh.And the fact that he hadn’t had any coffee in about six hours.Another of the Jombards screamed a war cry.Kendril didn’t bother to vocalize much of anything.He turned in the saddle, stabbing and swiping with his rapier.Two more Jombards went down to the Balneth steel blade as it sliced through the air.Another Jombard twisted back his arm to hurl a throwing axe.Kendril’s horse whinnied and reared it up.It lashed out both hooves and caught the Jombard in the face and chest.Kendril barely managed to hold on.The horse crashed back down again onto all fours.Kendril readied his rapier for one last blow.His arm ached, and his head pounded from the javelin hit.The last Jombard was scurrying away in the dark.Kendril killed one of the fallen Jombards as the man tried to rise back to his feet, then turned back to look at the gates of Stockade.The last dozen troopers were riding into the fortress.Behind them the dragoons were holding back some of the pursuing Jombards.From the wall above came sporadic carbine shots.Kendril had to move quickly, or he risked being trapped outside the fortress walls.He started to turn his horse.He saw something out of the corner of his eye.A reddish glow.No, not a glow.It was a pulsing aura, red like blood, but somehow giving hardly any light.Kendril’s stomach twisted.He had seen that peculiar aura before.He snapped his head around.A huge Jombard, dressed in the ornate jewelry and armor of a high chieftain, came walking casually across the muddy grass.An impossibly huge longsword was in his hand.His hair was braided into a topknot, and unlike most of the Jombard men, his face was clean-shaven.But what riveted Kendril’s gaze was the throbbing Soulbinder that hung around the man’s neck.A Soulbinder? How was it possible? How could—?“Demonbane!” the Jombard cried.He raised his longsword with a wolfish grin.“I challenge you to face me.I am the Great Fang, favored of Harnathu.My sword longs for your blood.Face me!”Kendril glanced quickly behind him.The gate of Stockade was swinging shut again.Captain Beckett was on foot by the doors, waving frantically to Kendril.Kendril turned his gaze back on the massive Jombard chieftain.“Come, little man,” the Great Fang said tauntingly.“You are not afraid, are you? Prove yourself in battle.”“Some other time,” Kendril said.He turned his mount around and galloped for the gate.He barely made it inside the doors before they slammed shut.The dragoons manning the gate barred and locked them immediately.From outside the walls came more howls, some of them quite human, as well as the sounds of horns blowing and drums beating.Kendril looked around him.About forty of his riders had made it inside the fortress alive.It was a good ratio, considering the odds that had been against them.Captain Beckett came running up to Kendril.“Are you all right, sir?”“Fine,” Kendril responded brusquely.He sheathed his rapier.“Take a squad and get to the armory.Get pistols and swords for the men, and anything else you can carry.Break down the door if you have to.Don’t let anyone get in your way.”Beckett gave smart salute and an impish grin.“Aye, sir.”Kendril tossed his bridle to Wilkes and jumped down off his horse.He went up to one of the dragoons near the gate.“Where’s Yearling?”“Badly wounded, sir.” The dragoon nodded towards the low squat building that was Stockade’s hospital.“It doesn’t look like he’ll last the night.”“Who’s in charge?”The dragoon pointed towards an approaching figure.“Captain Markus, sir.”Kendril nodded.“All right, then.” He looked back at the troopers, many of whom were already dismounted.“See to my men and their horses, will you?”Kendril started to turn away, then looked back curiously at the dragoon.“You’re sure you’re not going to arrest me or shoot me? I think I’d rather know now.”The dragoon gave an exhausted smile.“Lord Ravenbrook, I don’t know what all was said between you and Yearling, but I think you’ll find that those of us that are left are just happy to see any face that isn’t a blooming Jombard.”Kendril smirked, and clapped the man on the shoulder.“Good enough.” He turned to the approaching man.“Captain Markus, I presume?” He extended a hand.Markus, an older dragoon with a tangle of dark hair and a thick mustache, took it.“Lord Ravenbrook.I have to admit, sir, I did not expect to see you again in this lifetime.”“I’m not staying long,” Kendril said.“How many mounts do you have for your men?”Markus lowered his bushy eyebrows.“Enough, I suppose.At least for those still healthy enough to ride.Most of the dragoons who managed to retreat back to Stockade had their nags with them.”“Good.” Kendril looked up as a chilling howl rose somewhere beyond the battlements.“We have to go.Everyone who can ride [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]