Jalia At Bay (Book 4) by John Booth Read Free Book Online Page A

spread among them that Adon was alive.
    Jalia pulled her sword and pressed it close against Adon’s chest.
    “Would you have me kill him? I could do that before you could take two steps.” Jalia spoke as if the whole affair was some kind of joke.
    Mallon was insulted at her tone and his anger rose. Why wasn’t she frightened of him? No peasant had the right to treat him with such contempt. He wanted to stride to her and cut her head from her shoulders, but Trik was right. They couldn’t see into the hall properly and the whole thing might be some kind of trap.
    “It wouldn’t do you any good anyway, would it sleepy head?” Jalia gave Adon’s body a kick, but while his head rocked lightly from side to side, he uttered no sound.
    “Do you want to know why?” Jalia taunted. Mallon took a half step forward before he restrained himself. He had his whole family behind him and no force in this village could stop them. He only had to bide his time and he could kill this girl and all her friends.
    “Why then, bitch?” he managed to ask, though it nearly choked him.
    “Because I’ve already killed him once, haven’t I, poor little Adon?”
    Jalia sheathed her sword behind her back in one fluid motion and then held the lantern so it was against the side of Adon’s head. She lifted Adon’s head by its hair and tilted it so the gaping neck wound stood out red and angry in the pale light. It looked as though Adon had acquired a second mouth below his chin.
    Mallon felt the blood leave his face and for a second he felt that he might faint. Then his anger surged higher and his fists clenched so tight he felt blood begin to trickle down his palms from where his rough nails had cut through his skin.
    “He didn’t put up much of a fight,” Jalia continued conversationally. “I hear he inherited that lack of skill from his father.” Jalia paused for a second. “Oh, that would be you, wouldn’t it?”
    Mallon roared like a wounded animal. For a second, Jalia was taken back to the roar Adon gave just before her knife slit his throat. The son must have inherited it from the father, but the father’s roar was much more impressive. Jalia slipped the lantern onto the table and wondered just how much more goading it would take to get the man to rush towards her.
    “I will tear your womb from you with a rusty hook,” Mallon snarled. He knew that he should withdraw from the hall and have his family surround the building, but this galling woman would laugh if he was to retreat. He would not have the girl who had killed his son laugh at his retreating back. He could not stand the thought of it.
    “You must have tricked him to kill him. No slip of a girl could best Adon in a fair fight,” Mallon sneered. He would prove to this girl that he could best her with words before he took her life with cold steel.
    Jalia laughed as if Mallon had said something very funny. Again, the red haze threatened to overwhelm Mallon and Trik placed a warning hand again on his shoulder.
    “It is a tra…”
    Before Trik could finish the words, Jalia’s knife had embedded itself deep into his bowels. The moment Jalia had seen Trik place his hand upon Mallon, she knew she had to kill him. She had coated the knife with soot from a candle so it was virtually invisible in the dark. It was the work of a moment to throw it at the man. In decent light, he would have moved out of the way, but all he saw was Jalia appear to curtsey. Now it was far too late.
    Trik grasped at Mallon as the life ebbed out of him. “Forgive me, my Lord,” he whispered and staggered across the hall towards Jalia. He got halfway before he fell to the floor, dead.
    “I killed your son just like that, except that I had to aim for his neck because he was too fat to risk a gut throw. He might have only wobbled and then where would I have been?”
    Berserk rage overcame Mallon and he screamed “Attack!” as he raced across the room towards the mocking girl. His remaining nephew