beast.
Jobina’s face was impassive as she skewered the proffered meat and placed it over the flames. Landon rolled up the sodden pelt and strode into the woods, heading toward the shallow stream.
“You’re hard on him,” Jobina said.
“Don’t you start in, too, Jobina.”
“Start in?” She feigned innocence as he caught her green eyes, but two spots of color highlighted her pale cheeks, reflecting the glow of her flame-red hair.
“Aye. Sartain Fisherman made me the leader of this mission.”
“And who would challenge you, brave soldier? With your strong muscles and your voice of command?” She batted her long eyelashes, and he took an unplanned step closer to her.
He growled, “You mock me, Jobina, but can you sit there and say that your belly doesn’t want the lamb?” The aroma of the cooking meat was already heavy on the air, and juices flowed into his mouth as he spoke.
“I won’t tell you that, honored leader. I won’t lie to you.” She turned the roasting meat on the green sticks, but one of the pieces overbalanced and fell into the flames. Maddock reached for it without thinking and saved his dinner at the cost of singeing the hair on the back of his hand. He caught a flicker of a grin on Jobina’s lips before the woman managed to swallow her amusement. “Here, worthy soldier, you keep an eye on supper, while I get some salve from my bags.”
His hand didn’t hurt very much, but he let her go, following her swaying hips with his eyes. When she returned, she brandished a wooden box of green-tinged cream. She didn’t need to tuck his arm by her side as she massaged in the soothing ointment, and she certainly didn’t need to linger over the task for quite so long. Still, Maddock did not pull away until Landon crashed back from the stream, making an uncharacteristic amount of noise.
The three ate in silence, and rolled up in their blankets when they had finished. Maddock was closest to the fire, then Jobina, then the tracker. Maddock could hear the healer breathing beside him, and the sound might have been arousing, if not for Landon’s unnerving stillness at Jobina’s other side. Maddock’s last thought as he fell asleep was that the dispute with Landon had been worthwhile. For the first time in days, his belly felt full.
Perhaps that fullness kept him from moving quickly when they were discovered. A dog came crashing through the underbrush with a snarl on its black lips, foam flecking its bared teeth. The beast was as fierce as the gigantic hounds that Coren had summoned to the beach, and it commanded all of the mystical power that the People feared.
Reflexively, Maddock grabbed for his sword. For the first time in his life, he was using the weapon for something beyond the elaborate training rituals he had set for himself. His fingers closed on the hilt with grim determination, his muscles flowing into the fighting patterns with well-practiced ease.
The dog was attracted to Maddock’s sudden movement, or maybe to the smell of the lamb’s blood still soggy in the earth. The powerful muscles in the animal’s haunches bunched together, and Maddock saw the fur ruffle down its back. His own adrenaline surged in response. Then the mad creature was in the air, slathering jaws flinging foam into the fire.
Maddock forbade himself to imagine the damage those jagged teeth could inflict. He ordered himself not to picture the ravaged corpses of men, women, and children that had once littered the Headland of Slaughter. Instead, he instructed his body to stand firm, to transfer his energy through his shoulders, down his arms, into his locked wrists.
The sword connected with a sickening crunch. The animal’s trajectory was cut short, and the blade passed through the thickest part of its body. Blood sprayed from severed vessels. The canine corpse seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as if Maddock had cast a spell on it. Then, the body fell squarely in the fire, scattering half-burned logs
Jobina’s face was impassive as she skewered the proffered meat and placed it over the flames. Landon rolled up the sodden pelt and strode into the woods, heading toward the shallow stream.
“You’re hard on him,” Jobina said.
“Don’t you start in, too, Jobina.”
“Start in?” She feigned innocence as he caught her green eyes, but two spots of color highlighted her pale cheeks, reflecting the glow of her flame-red hair.
“Aye. Sartain Fisherman made me the leader of this mission.”
“And who would challenge you, brave soldier? With your strong muscles and your voice of command?” She batted her long eyelashes, and he took an unplanned step closer to her.
He growled, “You mock me, Jobina, but can you sit there and say that your belly doesn’t want the lamb?” The aroma of the cooking meat was already heavy on the air, and juices flowed into his mouth as he spoke.
“I won’t tell you that, honored leader. I won’t lie to you.” She turned the roasting meat on the green sticks, but one of the pieces overbalanced and fell into the flames. Maddock reached for it without thinking and saved his dinner at the cost of singeing the hair on the back of his hand. He caught a flicker of a grin on Jobina’s lips before the woman managed to swallow her amusement. “Here, worthy soldier, you keep an eye on supper, while I get some salve from my bags.”
His hand didn’t hurt very much, but he let her go, following her swaying hips with his eyes. When she returned, she brandished a wooden box of green-tinged cream. She didn’t need to tuck his arm by her side as she massaged in the soothing ointment, and she certainly didn’t need to linger over the task for quite so long. Still, Maddock did not pull away until Landon crashed back from the stream, making an uncharacteristic amount of noise.
The three ate in silence, and rolled up in their blankets when they had finished. Maddock was closest to the fire, then Jobina, then the tracker. Maddock could hear the healer breathing beside him, and the sound might have been arousing, if not for Landon’s unnerving stillness at Jobina’s other side. Maddock’s last thought as he fell asleep was that the dispute with Landon had been worthwhile. For the first time in days, his belly felt full.
Perhaps that fullness kept him from moving quickly when they were discovered. A dog came crashing through the underbrush with a snarl on its black lips, foam flecking its bared teeth. The beast was as fierce as the gigantic hounds that Coren had summoned to the beach, and it commanded all of the mystical power that the People feared.
Reflexively, Maddock grabbed for his sword. For the first time in his life, he was using the weapon for something beyond the elaborate training rituals he had set for himself. His fingers closed on the hilt with grim determination, his muscles flowing into the fighting patterns with well-practiced ease.
The dog was attracted to Maddock’s sudden movement, or maybe to the smell of the lamb’s blood still soggy in the earth. The powerful muscles in the animal’s haunches bunched together, and Maddock saw the fur ruffle down its back. His own adrenaline surged in response. Then the mad creature was in the air, slathering jaws flinging foam into the fire.
Maddock forbade himself to imagine the damage those jagged teeth could inflict. He ordered himself not to picture the ravaged corpses of men, women, and children that had once littered the Headland of Slaughter. Instead, he instructed his body to stand firm, to transfer his energy through his shoulders, down his arms, into his locked wrists.
The sword connected with a sickening crunch. The animal’s trajectory was cut short, and the blade passed through the thickest part of its body. Blood sprayed from severed vessels. The canine corpse seemed to hang in the air for a moment, as if Maddock had cast a spell on it. Then, the body fell squarely in the fire, scattering half-burned logs
Similar Books
