THE DAWN CAME, and we lived. When at last we
could hear nothing more and our curiosity became unbearable, we unbarred the
door. To my great relief, Trygg was there and came back in, unhurt, hunting for
his bone. Otherwise, I saw nothing...no one.
Emalda
stepped outside, cautiously. By unspoken agreement, she had become our leader.
Watching through the partially opened door, I saw her reconnoiter carefully, at
no great distance from us. Eventually, she turned and waved us out.
There
was not much to see. A couple of bodies with arrows sticking out, not pleasant,
but I had seen many dead animals in my time. I did not know whose they were and
didn’t seek to know. There was nothing to be done for them, no matter who they
were.
Snow
lay on the ground. It was only first snow, a taste of winter, but enough to let
us follow churned-up prints and splotches of blood down the slope towards the
beach. That was where our men had made their stand. I saw that the ships that
had brought us supplies had been roped together to make a great floating
platform and put out to sea away from the beach to intercept ships coming in. A
second line— of men—seemed to have been deployed on the beach. There were
bodies there and in the water with more washing up, and a few ships half sunk
in the tide, their sails burned. Everything smelled charred.
There
were Havacians and Omanis on the beach, helping the injured—ours, at least. If
they were Armatican, that was their last dawn. No one would bring them to us
for care.
My
lord was easy to spot. He was taller even than most Havacians, and he was
unhelmeted. I wondered with a sense of exasperation if he had even bothered to
shield his head. That man was born for battle. Probably he had enjoyed it. Son
of a general indeed. Now I believed it.
Regardless,
I went down to him through small hummocks of bodies and battle gear strewn
across snow and sand. All of the women were looking for their men, and now I
was one of them.
He
was flushed with cold and battle fever, still carrying a gory sword that he
plunged into the snow as though cleaning it, but he was not. He didn’t want me
to see the blood, but I caught his distinct look of victory touching on
defiance as he did it. He was what he was, that look said. Take it or leave it.
This
now blood-drenched island was not what I had ever envi‐ sioned
as a home. He was not the man I’d thought of in my dreams. I had never had much
time for dreams, anyway, and I wouldn’t now— there was going to be too much
work to do. But I thought now I would do it with him.
3 Comments
I really like all three of the covers. They all look like must reads to me.
ReplyDeleteReally nice covers. And the heroine's name is a mouthfull. xD
ReplyDeleteThank you for hosting, and for the comments! So funny about her name. It's exactly what my leading male character says--that he will never get it all said by breakfast. You should meet him! LOL.
ReplyDeletePlease try not to spam posts with the same comments over and over again. Authors like seeing thoughtful comments about their books, not the same old, "I like the cover" or "sounds good" comments. While that is nice, putting some real thought and effort in is appreciated. Thank you.