Beyond the Bitter River - Excerpt

"Beyond the Bitter River"

The king’s guards had come for me in the darkness before dawn... I had snatched my sword from its scabbard moments before they smashed open my bedroom door. I might have defeated two of them, but not three at the same time. I took some comfort in the thought that if King Bellabond had wanted me dead, he would have sent one of his assassin archers to loose a poison dart through my window. After all, the king was my uncle.

“Sarlon, do not resist.” The Captain of the Guards emphasized his order by waving a curved cutlass above his helmeted head. The rim of the helmet pressed against the top of his ears, folding them over. He looked a dangerous fool...

“Let me mash this young knight about a bit,” the tallest of the guards said. “His golden tongue might thrill the women, but not me.”

His beefy hand held an iron-spiked mace—handy for smashing armor. But I wasn’t wearing any. I don’t sleep in my battle gear. In fact, in my own bedroom, I sleep in my nothing-at-all. Within the stone walls of my little cottage, my only bed companion is the sword that lies beside me. I tossed my sword onto the bed and reached for my pants.

“Do not hit him. Not yet,” the Captain said. “My orders are to drag him before his majesty. In one piece, if possible.”

© Copyright 2013 by Jon Cory

 

 

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