The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons by Jason R Jones Page A

in his shoulder and the elf deflected the broadsword effortlessly.
    Kendari spun low under the weakened guard of the man in front of him, and cut at the thigh, perfectly across and even back on guard behind him now as he continued his steps. James went down on that knee, pain shooting through the leg, his chain mail cut through and more heat and blistered skin forced him to scream out this time as he fell to the ground with shield raised and sword dropped.
    “Less than impressive, knight, disappointing to say the least.” the Nadderi paced around by the blade, kicking it out of reach. Kendari looked up, seeing his trolls doing what he had expected, getting pummeled by the ogre yet keeping them distracted enough and to their applaud, returning to the fight quickly as their wounds rapidly healed themselves. Kendari surveyed the area for the archer that had been annoying at best, a satyr he validated. Just in time gazing to his left, he saw a flash of gray hurdle over a falling troll coming at him, head lowered. Kendari knew minotaur tactics well, and flattened himself instantly to the grass next to the knight he had defeated. The horned charge missed him by inches and crashed into the grove of trees behind him. “That was close was it not?” he sneered, face to face with a half conscious victim. Within a blink, the elven swordsman was on his feet, widened his stance, lowering his balance, and awaited the return of the gray minotaur.
    Shinayne quickened her pace, sidestepping ogre and troll attacks, arrows from Bedesh covering her from behind, avoiding the beasts that were busy killing each other. She gripped her blades tightly, spinning the curved short blade every few seconds, concentrating on the elf across the field of battle. Her thoughts connected with her emotions, fear, anger, and disbelief swirled as one. The elf woman had never seen an elf with the Nadderi curse, yet all her senses and memory told her what this elf was and she knew it had to be put to death. No elf could allow a Nadderi to live. They were allowed to let them wander the forest of eternal night to find their place to die and reflect, but never allowed to escape, let alone raise an army of trolls. This rogue elf was nothing more than a fugitive of final orders from the Court of the Whitemoon and a curse on the world that needed to be put down like a sick animal. Nothing more, save that Shinayne knew as all elves did, that this curse was only given to those elves who had committed the foulest murderous crimes against the Gods and the elven nations. Hatred fueled her steps closer as Shinayne T’Sarrin closed within reach. Her sword drew within inches of the elf’s back, the shortblade on guard. “Drop your weapons Nadderi and this will be quick.” She stated nervously in elven, receiving strange looks from the confused and injured human she stood over.
    “An elven noble’s voice if I ever heard one, how did I get so lucky on such a dismal winter day?” Kendari’s voice reeked of contempt and sarcasm, his hand tight on his lowered blade. He loosed the clasp with his free hand, not letting the woman behind him see and as the black cloak fell from his shoulders he was in full roll forward and turning round on his high leather boots. Her blades cut through the garment, cuts that would have put the old cursed elf down for good had he been there. Shinayne pressed on, swinging outside to in with forward cuts and thrusts of her curved longblade, shorter direct cuts with the elven shortblade. Kendari deflected each attack with precision and amazing speed, backing up carefully in time with the offense from the beautiful woman. His ripostes at her aimed at the shoulders and body and she parried with the short blade, keeping her distance with the longsword out in front. Kendari smiled, turning sideways to dodge a thrust from her off hand, cutting down with his heated straight longsword, which was blocked by an upward cut from her. Toe to toe, her blades