Rise of the Dragons by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online Page B

no
more. It meant breaking his vow—but he no longer cared.
    The old Merk came rushing back so fast,
it was as if it had never left—and in the blink of an eye, he found himself
back in killer mode.
    Merk focused and saw all of his opponents’
movements, every twitch, every pressure point, every vulnerability. The desire
to kill them overwhelmed him, like an old friend, and Merk allowed it to take
over.
    In one lightning-fast motion, Merk
grabbed the leader’s wrist, dug his finger into a pressure point, snapped it
back until it cracked, then snatched the dagger as it fell and in one quick
move, sliced the man’s throat from ear to ear.
    Their leader stared back at him with an
astonished look before slumping down to the ground, dead.
    Merk turned and faced the others, and
they all stared back, stunned, mouths agape.
    Now it was Merk’s turn to smile, as he
looked back at all of them, relishing what was about to happen next.
    “Sometimes, boys,” he said, “you just
pick the wrong man to mess with.”

CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    Kyra stood in the center of the crowded
bridge, feeling all eyes on her, all awaiting her decision for the fate of the
boar. Her cheeks flushed; she did not like to be the center of attention. She
loved her father for acknowledging her, though, and she felt a great sense of
pride, especially for his putting the decision in her hands.
    Yet at the same time, she also felt a
great responsibility. She knew that whatever choice she made would decide the
fate of her people. As much as she loathed the Pandesians, she did not want the
responsibility of throwing her people into a war they could not win. Yet she
also did not want to back down, to embolden the Lord’s Men, to disgrace her
people, make them seem weak, especially after Anvin and the others had so
courageously made a stand.
    Her father, she realized, was wise: by
putting the decision in her hands, he made it seemed as if the decision was
theirs, not the Lord’s Men, and that act alone had saved his people face. She
also realized he had put the decision in her hands for a reason: he must have
knew this situation required an outside voice to help all parties save face—and
he chose her because she was convenient, and because he knew her not to be
rash, to be a voice of moderation. The more she pondered it, the more she
realized that was why he chose her: not to incite a war—he could have chosen
Anvin for that—but to get his people out of one.
    She came to a decision.
    “The beast is cursed,” she said
dismissively. “It nearly killed my brothers. It came from the Wood of Thorns
and was killed on the eve of Winter Moon, a day we are forbidden to hunt. It
was a mistake to bring it through our gates—it should have been left to rot in
the wild, where it belongs.”
    She turned derisively to the Lord’s Men.
    “Bring it to your Lord Governor,” she
said, smiling. “You do us a favor.”
    The Lord’s Men looked from her to the
beast, and their expressions morphed; they now looked as if they had bitten
into something rotten, as if they didn’t want it anymore.
    Kyra saw Anvin and the others looking at
her approvingly, gratefully—and her father most of all. She had done it—she had
allowed her people to save face, had spared them from a war—and had managed a
jibe at Pandesia at the same time.
    Her brothers dropped the boar to the
ground and it landed in the snow with a thud. They stepped back, humbled, their
shoulders clearly aching.
    All eyes now fell to the Lord’s Men, who
stood there, not knowing what to do. Clearly Kyra’s words had cut deep; they
now looked at the beast now as if it were something foul dragged up from the
bowels of the earth. Clearly, they no longer wanted it. And now that it was
theirs, they seemed to have also lost the desire for it.
    Their commander, after a long, tense
silence, finally gestured to his men to pick up the beast, then turned,
scowling, and marched away, clearly annoyed, as if knowing he had