The Bloody North (The Fallen Crown) by Tony Healey Read Free Book Online Page B

heard, they went their separate ways when he decided to settle there at a place he bought. The majority of this war's been over for three years, in case you idiots didn't know that. We've spent that whole time stamping down your little uprisings and rebellions. But Quayle wasn't a part of it, I know that much. He moved on. Same as you should have. And, same as you, he's little more than a washed-up bandit."
    So all this time, all this fighting, and he was never out there in the battlefields after all, Rowan thought sourly. Bastard's been settled for years. Sitting pretty while I've been wandering the wilderness, fighting and killing, looking for him at every turn.
    "Anything else?"
    "No, that's all I know," the Captain said. He stepped away from the tree. "So am I free to go?"
    Rowan's sword tore through him in one mighty strike, so quick the Captain didn't have time to react to it coming his way. It hit his temple, level with his eyes. The blade caught in his skull, his left eye exploding from the socket, the white jelly remains hanging by a thin web of nerves. Rowan wrestled his sword free from the man's head, and watched absently as the Captain peered about, then fell face forward into the muddy ground.
    " You're free to go fuck yourself," Rowan said and spat on the Captain as he stalked out of the trees.
    That 'll pay you for Larch.
    Ahead of him, the fight ing continued.
     

Eight
     
    Lieutenant Vrand used both steels to fend off the big brute who was swinging his heavy sword. His opponent was taller, stronger – but he had the advantage of speed. With every lunge he managed to avoid, a window of opportunity opened before him in the shape of an exposed set of ribs, an unprotected forearm. He slashed and poked at the man where he could, all the while driven back by the onslaught. Sweat beaded on his face despite the cold as he ducked another ferocious swipe at his head. The bigger man chopped down and in doing so gave Vrand a chance. He took it.
    His steels sliced into the giant's r ibcage, and as the man moved, they cut through him, round under his armpit. Red-hot blood seeped out down the man's side. He cried out, teeth bared, eyes mad with rage. Vrand smiled.
    Finally.
    Vrand quickstepped around his opponent, and used both blades to skewer him through the back, one on either side of his spine.
    "Garrrhhh!"
    The Lieutenant worked them back and forth, sawing away at the man's insides as if his steels were carving knives. The Giant dropped to his knees and Vrand whipped his swords back out of the man's body, flicked them behind him, blood splattering the grass.
    The big man toppled forward with a gurgling sound and was still.
    "Surrender accepted," the Lieutenant said. He strode back to where the bulk of the fighting was going on. By the count, they were winning. Larch's men were outnumbered four to one. He turned, scanned the valley for any sign of the Captain.
    That 's when he saw him.
    * * *
    Rowan ran behind the tents, caught one of the soldiers exiting through a set of flaps and dealt him a swift death. He cut a gash across the bottom of the man's back as he went past, the body writhing and jittering on the ground, dark red pooling over his uniform.
    There was a loud bang, an explosion as a lantern blew in one of the tents, sending the contents clattering e verywhere amid clouds of smoke and fire. Rowan dove out of the way, hit the turf, and looked up.
    Lieutenant Vrand grinned. "There you are ."
    A pot hit the ground next to him and the Lieutenant didn't so much as flinch.
    Rowan scrambled to his feet. The smoke was heavy on the air, choking. "Here I am."
    "Exactly as you were described to me," Vrand said. "And bearing the famous scar from the Butcher of Clement, no less."
    Rowan shrugged. "Earned it in battle. In my line of work we don't get medals for sitting on our arse."
    "I take it the Captain is dead," Vrand said, both steels in his hands, face eager. "What a waste of a uniform."
    "I heard you were the