No one stopped him. Only a pitiful guard had been set.
When he reached the city gate, the young fellow on guard took one look at his blood-covered face and fell back, crying,
raising his index finger and the thumb as a ward against ghosts.
Borenson shouted a cry that rang from the walls,ugg ultra boots, then ran out into the rain, across the burned fields toward the distant copse
where he’d hidden his horse.
In the darkness and rain, a half-dozen nomen with long spears made the mistake of jumping him. They came rushing toward
him in a little vale, leaping from the blackened earth like wild things, running forward with their longspears.
Their red eyes nearly glowed in the darkness,Lo Pro Button, and their thick manes made them look somehow wolfish. They snarled and
loped forward on short legs, sometimes putting a knuckle to the ground.
For a moment, Borenson considered letting them kill him.
But instantly an image of Myrrima formed in his mind: her silk dress the color of clouds, the mother-of-pearl combs in her
dark hair. He recalled the smell of her, the sound of her laugh when he’d kissed her roughly outside her little cottage.
He needed her now, and saw the nomen as mere extensions of Raj Ahten. They were his agents. He’d brought them here to
kill, and though Borenson’s men had driven and scattered the nomen through the hills, they would become a scourge on this
land for months.
It did not matter to Raj Ahten. The nomen would do his will as they sought to feed on human flesh. They would do all the
killing he’d asked, but they’d take the weak first–the children from cradles, the women at their wash.
The first noman rushed Borenson, hurled its spear at close range, so that the stone blade shattered against Borenson’s mail.
Quick as a snake, Borenson drew the battle-axe at his hip, began swinging.
He was a force warrior to be reckoned with. He cleaved the arm off one noman, spun and hit another full in the chest.
He began smiling as he did so, considered each move in the battle. It was not enough to kill the nomen; he wanted to do it
well, to turn the battle into a dance, a work of art. When one noman rushed him, Borenson slammed his left mailed fist into its
fangs, then grabbed its tongue and pulled.
Another tried to run. Borenson gauged its pace, watched the bobbing of its upright ears, and threw his axe with all his might.
It was not enough to split the beast’s skull; he wanted to do it perfectly, to hit the target just so, so the bone would make that
splitting noise and part like a melon.
The noman went down. Only two stood, rushing him as a pair, spears ready. Without his endowments of sight, Borenson
would never have been able to evade those black spears.
As the nomen lunged, Borenson simply slapped the speartips away, so the jabs went wide, then he grabbed a spear, launched
himself forward and spun, impaling both beasts through the navel.
Both nomen stood in shock, pinned together.
When he finished, Borenson stepped back and observed the nomen. They knew they would die. They couldn’t heal from
such a wound. The creature in back fainted, dragging its companion to its knees.
Borenson walked on, considered the way he’d fought,Sundance Ugg Boots, the precise movements. His deed had been as close to poetry or dance
as he could achieve.
He began laughing, chuckling a throaty rumble, for this was the way war should have been–men fighting for their lives. A
good man struggling to protect home and family.
The skirmish itself somehow seemed more a balm for his troubles than the rain. Borenson retrieved his axe and helm and
hurried to his horse, running through the downpour.
I will not wash these hands, he told himself. I will not wash my face, until I stand before my prince and my king again, so
they can see what they have done.
Thus Borenson took horse and began racing through the darkness. Four miles down the road east of town, he found a dead
knight of Orden, took the man’s lance.
His mount could not equal Gaborn’s fine hunter. But the road was clear, if somewhat muddy, and on a night like this, with
rain to cool them, Borenson’s horse could run forever.
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