Free Heart of the King by Bruce Blake Page B

the point of the sword entered his right eye and exited through the back of its head.
    The undead creature dropped its knife and released its grip on the boy, the force of the impact sending it reeling back, until its feet caught and it tumbled to the ground. The boy cracked one eyelid and started crying.
    Khirro rushed past the boy, pulled the sword from the undead Kanosee’s eye, and used it to separate its head from its shoulders. A moment later, Athryn was at his side, hand on his shoulder. A sheen of sweat glistened on the magician’s forehead and bare chest in the wan moonlight.
    “Nice aim,” he said and went to Graymon.
    Athryn knelt in front of the boy and looked him in the eye. Graymon looked back for a second before collapsing into his arms.
    “Don’t worry,” Khirro overheard Athryn whisper. “We are taking you home.”

Chapter Ten
     
    “Quiet.”
    Lehgan had stopped a minute before, his head canted as he listened to the sounds around them, though Emeline didn’t know why; she didn’t hear anything. A nightbird sang from the forest beside the road, trees creaked and brush rustled, and Iana cooed against her breast as if answering the night. Nothing unusual.
    “Keep the child quiet, woman.”
    Emeline shifted to pull the neck of her dress down, exposing her breast. Iana’s eyes widened at the sight of the freed nipple before she put her tiny mouth around it and closed her eyes. The calmness of feeding the baby flowed through Emeline’s arms and legs, making her forget where they were and all that had happened, until she heard the sounds that had made Lehgan stop.
    Horses.
    Somewhere around the bend in the road ahead, a horse whinnied and huffed, then she heard the voices. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the village they’d passed with its funeral pyre and smashed huts.
    Lehgan gestured with his head for her to follow and turned his horse back the way they’d come. Emeline sat for a second, staring down the road.
    “I knew we should have turned around and gone home when we saw that village. Come on.”
    Her husband’s harsh whisper prompted her into action. She removed the nipple from the baby’s mouth, covered herself, and urged her horse to follow.
    Iana began to cry.
    Emeline looked down at her daughter’s face strained with anger at having her food taken away. A sob broke through, then a second, louder.
    “Quiet,” Lehgan said and grabbed her horse’s bridle.
    “ Shh. ” Emeline put the tip of her finger to Iana’s lips to calm her, but the baby jerked her head away and sobbed again.
    “Keep the child quiet, woman.”
    Lehgan put his heels to his horse and it sprang forward, dragging Emeline’s mount along and threatening to unsaddle her. She righted herself and hugged Iana tight to her chest. The baby shrieked.
    “Who goes there?”
    Emeline's right foot slipped out of the stirrup as she looked back over her shoulder at the words made foreign by the soldier’s Kanosee accent. She saw six or seven mounted men behind them before the horse’s movement made her slide in the saddle. Her foot dug for the stirrup but found only empty air. Instinctively, she let go of the reins and hugged Iana tight as panic surged through her at the feel of her dress slipping on the saddle leather. She lashed out a hand, grabbing for the horse’s mane, but missed.
    “Lehgan,” she squealed.
    Two thoughts occurred to her simultaneously, one an instinct, the other bred through years of riding: Protect the baby. Get your foot clear of the stirrup.  
    If her foot caught, she’d be dragged behind the horse, and then it wouldn’t matter what she did to protect her child. Although the horse hadn’t yet gotten up to speed, it wouldn’t slow down when it noticed her bouncing against the ground beside it.
    Half-on, half-off the horse, Emeline twisted and wrenched her foot free, then twisted again to put herself between the baby and the hard ground. Her grip tightened, her muscles tensed,