Thinblade by David Wells Page B

waiting with Lucky just outside the main gate. “Let’s go,” he said tersely as he rode past. They fell in behind him, looking back to see the flames growing from the courtyard of their home.
    “Wait!” Alexander cried and reined in his horse. “Where are Mom and Dad?”
    Anatoly wheeled around and pulled up close to Alexander. He spoke quietly but with deadly firmness. “Your Mom and Dad are fighting the zombie demon to buy you the time you need to escape with your life. Do not waste their sacrifice.”
    He heard Abigail let out a small whimper. Anatoly slapped Alexander’s horse on the rump. The horse leapt into a gallop and Abigail’s horse was startled into a run as well. Soon they were running away from their home as fast as they could ride.
    When they crested the last hill, Alexander looked back to see his home fully ablaze in the early dawn light. “Please let them survive this,” he said under his breath before turning back to the road.

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 7
     
     
     
     
     
    Alexander was standing watch in the dead of night. They’d ridden since dawn as fast as Lucky’s wagon would go. It had been a miserable day. The drizzle had started early and was still falling. The wind had blown steadily in their faces all day, and it was cold. Not cold enough for snow, but close.
    His heart ached at the loss of his brother. The hard riding had occupied his mind for most of the day but now he was alone in the dark with nothing but his grief. He stood facing the wind, embracing the punishing cold while tears quietly rolled down his cheeks and mingled with the raindrops falling on his face.
    He felt adrift in a sea of despair. When he wrenched his mind from thoughts of his brother, he was blindsided with stabbing and sudden worry for his parents. He didn’t even know if they were still alive. Lucky told him that a zombie demon couldn’t stand the light of day. That it would have retreated into the netherworld with the first rays of the sun. That was some consolation but not much. He could still see Valentine Manor ablaze when he closed his eyes. His home was gone. His family scattered or murdered.
    Thoughts of his parents led to guilt. He left them to fend for themselves against an unhuman enemy. Despite repeated assurances from Anatoly and Lucky, he felt like he’d betrayed them. He should have stayed and fought. He should have protected his family.
    It was all too much to take in at once. He couldn’t get his mind around the terrible day that had forever altered the course of his life. Too much had happened. Too many terrifying questions remained unanswered.
    Yesterday morning he was the second son of a minor noble. He had a plan for his life. He’d chosen the plot of land where he was going to build his home. He was going to raise cattle like his father had. All he wanted was a simple life. A family. A home. A connection to the land he drew his sustenance from. Alexander wasn’t ambitious. He didn’t need to be. Darius was heir to Valentine Manor. Alexander would have followed his brother anywhere. And now … Darius was gone. Valentine manor was gone. His future was cloaked in darkness.
    His anger began to build again. All this pain for what? Because of some curse cast thousands of years ago. No … not a curse. All of this pain could be pinned squarely on a man who should have had the good sense to die two millennia ago.
    Prince Phane Reishi.
    A gust of wind blew the icy rain into his face. He heard someone stir from under the oilskin tent. Anatoly emerged quietly to take his turn at watch.
    “You are relieved, My Lord,” Anatoly said quietly as he came up beside him.
    Alexander spun and grabbed the big man-at-arms by the coat. “Don’t call me that.” His rage had come quickly and he knew it was misplaced. Anatoly didn’t flinch or resist. Instead he stepped close to Alexander and drew him into a hug.
    He held him tightly for a long moment, then released him and held him at arm’s