Free Walk Through Fire by Joshua P. Simon Page A

time to get the others out of here. And like I said, I was looking for you.”
    “But you came in fully armed,” said Jonrell as a knee came up into his stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
    Do we really have to make it that real?
    “I wanted to challenge Ahned and send him to the One Below before they did away with me. You ruined my plans.” Ronav winked and threw Jonrell off of him.
    Jonrell landed near his sword and scooped it up as he regained his footing. He moved his dagger to his off hand. “So now what?” he asked, switching to a rare island language as he spat toward Ronav.
    “Krytien’s had more than enough time. Time to start hacking away at these idiots while they’re engulfed in our fight. Maybe we can carve our way to some mounts.”
    “And if not?”
    “Then we die.” Ronav’s tone was so lacking in emotion it took Jonrell back.
    Since when does he care so little about life?
    An animalistic scream cut through the shouting crowd. A beast of a man with crazed eyes hurled himself through the soldiers with ax in hand, throwing men out of his way. Thinking they were under a full attack, many fled.
    “Traitor.” Glacar roared as he barreled toward Jonrell.
    One Above, he doesn’t know.
    Ronav shouldered Glacar into the air. He skidded to the ground and looked up in confusion. The crowd grew silent.
    Glacar stood up. “I don’t understand.”
    “This is my fight,” shouted Ronav. “The traitor is mine.”
    Someone yelled. “Something’s not right. Jonrell could have killed Ronav just then when he turned his back away.”
    “No,” snarled Jonrell. “I want to do this my way.”
    Cord stepped forward to the front of Hezen’s men and pointed. “He’s lying. Look how long they’ve fought and neither has a scratch. Glacar and Ronav were both worse than this in half the amount of time. They’re stalling.”
    Jonrell’s heart sank as he felt the change in the crowd. Of all people, it had to be Cord.
    “So that means,” started Glacar as the light went on in his eyes.
    Two daggers whizzed by either side of Jonrell’s head and sunk into the necks of approaching guardsmen. Kroke yelled out. “Quit standing around and kill something!”
    Ronav turned toward a spot where the crowd thinned in the confusion. “This way.”
    Jonrell followed his commander as he sliced through men like a farmer reaping wheat. He led them deeper into the enemy camp and away from the Hell Patrol as fast as their feet could move. Glacar roared past Jonrell, pushing him out of the way to share in the carnage. Kroke ran at Jonrell’s side, throwing knives and stabbing any who got close. He smiled at Jonrell with a look of elation.
    * * *
    “C’mon. We have to go now.”
    Krytien felt a tug at his robes, but he ignored it. His eyes bounced over the bodies they had yet to load on horseback. They were all near death and he didn’t have the knowledge or even the strength to save them. He swore. There was another tug at his robes followed by a slap in the face. His cheeks flushed and he turned.
    “Bout time I got your attention.” Hag scolded. “I said let’s go. I think that confusion spell you put around our camp is starting to wear off. We’re running out of time.”
    “There are still men left.”
    “They’re too far gone. You’ve done all you can. If you try to bring them with us, they’ll only slow us down and put the rest at risk.”
    There was a strange lull in the shouting and yelling from Effren’s camp that brought Krytien to his feet. Cassus rode up. “Everyone is on the road. Are you coming?”
    The noise from the camp erupted yet again though the excited sounds had changed to chaos. It sounded as if the cries were moving further into the Effren’s camp, but then Krytien noticed a surge of soldiers coming their way.
    Krytien took one last look at the men he had to leave behind and fought back tears. He waddled to his horse and climbed into the saddle. Hag was a half-step behind him.