head. Her neck exploded into fire, and agony flared between her collarbone and her ears. She grabbed desperately at his legs, trying to pry them away. It was like trying to bend solid iron bars.
With a roar, Gabriella drew one sword and slashed at the outside of his right thigh, keeping clear of the artery, and cutting across muscle. The man screamed and his legs loosened.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Gabriella gasped.
Lightning-quick, he slammed his foot into her head, and her blade clattered away as she slid backwards across the floor.
Gabriella could see the pain explode in the fugitive's eyes as he bounced back onto his feet, but his wounds didn't stop him rolling for her fallen sword.
She lunged for him then, drawing her other sword, but he batted her blade aside with his and head-butted her. She fell back, dropping the sword.
He twirled the blade theatrically as he stood over her.
"This one's with love from the Brotherhood. Give their regards to Ludwig Rhodon when you see him in Kerberos!"
A flying white blur suddenly crashed into Gabriella's assailant from behind and she rolled to her feet as metal clanged beside her. When she had risen, the man's head was staring up at her. His body was still falling, next to a new figure. It was Erak Brand.
Gabriella shivered, and grasped his forearm tightly. Beyond him, six more Knights entered, as did a matronly woman in the white cloak of a Confessor.
"You're a hard girl to find, even after Markus reported you were heading this way." Erak said.
"What... what did you do that for?" she said, gesturing at the corpse.
"He was going to kill you!"
"He was going to try!" Gabriella protested.
"He might have succeeded."
She went over to the headless body and began searching through its clothes for anything that might identify the fugitive.
"Are you saying you go easy on me in sparring?" Gabriella said. "This man wasn't as good as you, and might I remind you who won our last bout?"
"I'm saying it doesn't matter how good a fighter is," Erak said. "You can always have a bad day. Everybody has some bad luck from time to time, and if it's when you're fighting for your life... The enemy only needs to be lucky once."
The Confessor prodded the headless corpse with the sole of her sandal. "Well, if this was the man who shot Eminence Rhodon, he was lucky."
Gabriella looked up at her, feeling a terrible sickening sensation.
"Did the Eminence -?"
The Confessor shook her head. "I don't know about that. I mean this one died quickly. Lucky for him. I don't suppose he said anything before he left us for the pits?"
Gabriella shook her head. "Just best wishes from the Brotherhood."
Confessor Kamil didn't look very surprised. "Well, if he is the one who shot at Rhodon, I'd expect a Brotherhood link. Unless, of course it's a political game and he's from one of the Pontaine cities, trying to stir up trouble." She glared at Gabriella and Erak. "It would have been nice if you'd left him in a fit state to tell us." She sighed. "Still, perhaps the body will tell us something."
"Let's hope," Gabriella agreed.
CHAPTER 4
Mud spattered up from under hoof as a column of riders passed down a trail at speed. The bridleway was wide, the silver birches set far enough back that no-one need fear being pitched from their mount by a stray branch. The horses were a motley bunch of breeds and colours, and all but one of the riders wore shields strapped to their backs and iron helms, tinted to the shade of blood by the sun.
As the valley widened, and threads of smoke became visible rising from below, a second group of hooded riders waited in a village so small it didn't even have a name. A farm at each end was separated by a few stone cottages and wattle fences. A river of churned mud running parallel to the fencing passed for a road through fields frosted white. A forested ridgeline on the horizon separated the countryside from the cliffs of Kalten. The two groups met in the middle of the village
With a roar, Gabriella drew one sword and slashed at the outside of his right thigh, keeping clear of the artery, and cutting across muscle. The man screamed and his legs loosened.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Gabriella gasped.
Lightning-quick, he slammed his foot into her head, and her blade clattered away as she slid backwards across the floor.
Gabriella could see the pain explode in the fugitive's eyes as he bounced back onto his feet, but his wounds didn't stop him rolling for her fallen sword.
She lunged for him then, drawing her other sword, but he batted her blade aside with his and head-butted her. She fell back, dropping the sword.
He twirled the blade theatrically as he stood over her.
"This one's with love from the Brotherhood. Give their regards to Ludwig Rhodon when you see him in Kerberos!"
A flying white blur suddenly crashed into Gabriella's assailant from behind and she rolled to her feet as metal clanged beside her. When she had risen, the man's head was staring up at her. His body was still falling, next to a new figure. It was Erak Brand.
Gabriella shivered, and grasped his forearm tightly. Beyond him, six more Knights entered, as did a matronly woman in the white cloak of a Confessor.
"You're a hard girl to find, even after Markus reported you were heading this way." Erak said.
"What... what did you do that for?" she said, gesturing at the corpse.
"He was going to kill you!"
"He was going to try!" Gabriella protested.
"He might have succeeded."
She went over to the headless body and began searching through its clothes for anything that might identify the fugitive.
"Are you saying you go easy on me in sparring?" Gabriella said. "This man wasn't as good as you, and might I remind you who won our last bout?"
"I'm saying it doesn't matter how good a fighter is," Erak said. "You can always have a bad day. Everybody has some bad luck from time to time, and if it's when you're fighting for your life... The enemy only needs to be lucky once."
The Confessor prodded the headless corpse with the sole of her sandal. "Well, if this was the man who shot Eminence Rhodon, he was lucky."
Gabriella looked up at her, feeling a terrible sickening sensation.
"Did the Eminence -?"
The Confessor shook her head. "I don't know about that. I mean this one died quickly. Lucky for him. I don't suppose he said anything before he left us for the pits?"
Gabriella shook her head. "Just best wishes from the Brotherhood."
Confessor Kamil didn't look very surprised. "Well, if he is the one who shot at Rhodon, I'd expect a Brotherhood link. Unless, of course it's a political game and he's from one of the Pontaine cities, trying to stir up trouble." She glared at Gabriella and Erak. "It would have been nice if you'd left him in a fit state to tell us." She sighed. "Still, perhaps the body will tell us something."
"Let's hope," Gabriella agreed.
CHAPTER 4
Mud spattered up from under hoof as a column of riders passed down a trail at speed. The bridleway was wide, the silver birches set far enough back that no-one need fear being pitched from their mount by a stray branch. The horses were a motley bunch of breeds and colours, and all but one of the riders wore shields strapped to their backs and iron helms, tinted to the shade of blood by the sun.
As the valley widened, and threads of smoke became visible rising from below, a second group of hooded riders waited in a village so small it didn't even have a name. A farm at each end was separated by a few stone cottages and wattle fences. A river of churned mud running parallel to the fencing passed for a road through fields frosted white. A forested ridgeline on the horizon separated the countryside from the cliffs of Kalten. The two groups met in the middle of the village
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