Free The Misbegotten King by Anne Kelleher Bush

though suddenly it had changed
     to a liquid. She felt her lungs struggle to pull it in, and in that moment, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the trees
     on the periphery shudder as though something shook the trunks like sticks. Her eyes darted frantically from side to side,
     and beside her, the horse threw its head back, caught in the same struggle to breathe. She saw the tree closest vibrate as
     though some unseen force passed through it. With a jerk, something had been released, and she could breathe again. She took
     a deep breath and the trees on either side of the path burst into flames, like great burning torches.
    With a shriek, she turned, and in that instant, a cloud of Mutens dropped from the trees, silent as the falling rain. A cry
     arose from the men, and she reacted instantly, pulling the sword from its sheath, and crouching as thefirst opponent jabbed a vicious side blow to her unprotected flank.
    Behind her she could hear the sergeant try to rally the men into some semblance of order. The burning trees hemmed them in
     tightly, and the Mutens cut through the ranks as cleanly as a scythe through corn. Beneath the shouts of the frightened men,
     the screams of the wounded and the dying, the Mutens fought with silent, eerie precision.
    Deirdre sliced her sword across a Muten’s throat and it fell, blood fountaining across her in wide spray, blinding her temporarily
     as another sprang up in front. In the confusion she could see nothing but the red mist before her eyes, hear nothing but the
     hoarse shouts and high-pitched screams.
    Her horse reared and neighed, hooves flailing, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a razor spear whistle through the
     air, slicing through the animal’s throat cleanly as butter. “No!” she cried, turning her back blindly, momentarily forgetting
     everything but the loss of the animal she had reared from childhood. And then Vere was there, swinging his quarter stave,
     knocking opponents off their feet, dodging blows with complicated twists and turns of his body. In the press of battle, he
     grabbed at her arm. “Come,” he cried, “run.”
    “What?” she screamed back.
    “We’re outnumbered—there’re more of them than you can imagine—this way—”
    Deirdre glanced over her shoulder. The forest path was a mass of men and Mutens, white and gray shapes moving with deadly
     proficiency through the ranks of men.
    “I can get you out—now.”
    The moment seemed to collapse, then expand, and the decision was made for her. To stay meant certain death. The furious flames
     hissed and snapped as the wet wood burned, leaping out with long tongues as though to snatch the hapless company. She cast
     a last desperate glance over her shoulder. Her men crumpled beneath the onslaught. She was less expendable than they.
    She pulled her battle-plaid closer about her shoulders and nodded. Vere grasped her arm, and four white-garbed forms dropped
     in front of them. With one mighty stroke, Deirdre swung her sword and thrust simultaneously with her dagger as Vere slashed
     with his quarter stave. The Mutens fell, howling, into a burning tree. Vere grabbed her arm again and pulled her through the
     underbrush. They ran.
    The stench of burning flesh, the cries of her abandoned men pursued them through the trees, the branches catching at her plaid
     like grasping hands. Finally, Vere paused, his breath coming in hard gasps.
    She leaned against the black-ribbed trunk of an ancient tree, her own breathing ragged, her chest pounding. Her upper arm
     and her shoulder throbbed with a dull ache. She closed her eyes, seeing once again the mound of white forms writhing on the
     bodies of her men, like a thick mass of maggots. Bile rose in her throat, and she opened her eyes to see Vere staring into
     the distance, his gray hair blowing across his shoulders. “How did that happen?”
    He turned to face her, the lines of his face etched deeply. “I don’t know. I have never seen