Stones of Power 02 - Last Sword of Power

Stones of Power 02 - Last Sword of Power by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Stones of Power 02 - Last Sword of Power by David Gemmell Read Free Book Online
Authors: David Gemmell
himself to his feet the older man hobbled towards the house, shouting at the top of his voice and pointing to the now charging line. Herdsmen and horse-handlers came running from the stables with bows in hand while the twenty regular legionaries, armed with swords and shields, formed a fighting line in the yard before the house. Ursus sprinted back to his room to gather his own bow and quiver. Adriana was crouching below the main window.
    'Who are they?' asked Ursus, as the riders neared.'
    Trinovante tribesmen,' she said.
    An arrow flashed through the open window, slamming into the door-frame across the room. Ursus stepped back from view, notching an arrow to his bow.
    The horsemen thundered into the yard, leaping from their mounts to engage the legionaries.
    Outnumbered four to one the line gave way, the garishly clad tribesmen hacking and cutting a path towards the house.
    Ursus risked a glance through the window as a warrior with a braided beard leapt for the opening.
    Dragging back on the bowstring he released the shaft to slice into the tribesman's throat and the man fell back.
    'I think we should leave,' said Ursus, seizing Adriana by the hand and hauling her to her feet.
    The door burst inwards and three warriors entered the room, swords red with the blood of the fallen legionaries.
    'I hope the thought of ransom has occurred to you,'.said Ursus, dropping the bow and spreading his arms wide.
    'Kill him!' ordered a tall dark-haired warrior with a fading scar on his cheek.
    'I am worth quite a lot ... in gold!' said the prince, backing away.
    The warriors advanced. Ursus stepped forward, twisted on the ball of his foot and leapt, his right heel cracking against a warrior's chin and somersaulting the man into his companion. The prince landed lightly, diving to his right to avoid a slashing cut from Scarf ace. Then rolling to his feet, he ducked under a second sweep and drove his fingers up under the tribesman's breastbone.
    The man gasped, his face turning crimson . . . then he fell. Ursus scooped up the fallen man's sword and plunged it through the chest of the first warrior, who had started to rise. Adriana hit the third man with a stool knocking him from his feet.
    A trumpet blast echoed outside and the thunder of hooves followed. Ursus ran to the window to see Uther, Victorinus and a full century of mounted legionaries hammering into the bewildered tribesmen. Many of the Trinovantes threw down their weapons, but they were slain out of hand.
    Within a few minutes the battle was over, the bodies being dragged from the yard.

    The King entered the house, his pale eyes gleaming, all weariness gone from him.
    'Where is Prasamaccus?' he asked, stepping over the bodies. The warrior hit by Adriana groaned and tried to stand. Uther spun, his great sword cleaving the man's neck. The head rolled to rest against the wall, the body slumping to pump blood to the floor. Adriana looked away. 'I said, where is Prasamaccus?' 'Here, my lord,' said the cripple, stepping into view from the back room.
    Tarn unharmed.' The King relaxed, grinning boyishly. 'I am sorry we were not here sooner.' He moved to the window. 'Victorinus! There are three more in here!'
    A group of legionaries entered the lodge, dragging the bodies out into the sunshine.
    Uther sheathed his sword and sat. 'You did well, Ursus. You fight as well as you talk.'
    'Fortune favoured me, sire, and Adriana downed one with a stool.'
    'Hardly surprising; she comes from fine stock.'
    Adriana curtseyed and then moved to the cupboard, fetching the King a goblet and filling it with apple juice from a stone jug. Uther drank deeply.
    'You will be safe now. Gwalchmai has isolated the main band and by tonight there will be not one rebel Trinovante alive from here to Combretovium.'
    'Are your subjects always this unruly?' asked Ursus and a flash of annoyance showed on the King's face.
    'We British do not make good subjects,' said Prasamaccus swiftly. 'It is the land, Ursus. All the

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