own straight, white teeth and lifted the
dagger from his belt. In seconds, the weapon broke through the rough skin of the
trolls stomach. Warm blood gushed. It shrieked loudly, a high-pitched wail as he
dragged the blade across its throat.
Thame would never be a victim again.
A line of trolls ran over the nearest
hill, the grass was dotted with these ugly things and the weapons they wield.
He roared, loud enough to alert the others and hopefully, instill some fear
into the disgusting creatures.
The moment they reached the bottom of the
small hill, two were met with a blur of blue and fell to their knees clasping
their spurting necks. He was damn glad Whisper was on their side.
His sword rose, he kept the dagger at hip
level as two approached him. He lunged, striking each with a weapon and left both
of them bleeding. He twisted away from the jabs, nearly dancing on his toes to
keep these two at bay. His back hindered every movement. It frustrated him to
no end as he shifted and barely missed the tip of the enemy’s blade.
Pissed, Thame charged them. His sword
connected with the one on the right, his dagger the left. He kicked to the
left. When it hunched over, he used his sword to slash the left ones head clean
off its shoulders. Then he spun, slammed the sword into a gut and jammed his
dagger straight down into its curved back. It went down without a whimper. He
turned to the others, ready to exact more fortifying revenge. There was no
chance. Five trolls lay dead around him. He couldn’t help but think once again
that Whisper was one scary son of a banshee. He turned, sword shifting into
defensive stance.
The King stood at the edge of the mini
battle, hands on his hips with Wick and Flance beside him. “It seems my rush to
get here was for naught.”
“Blame the blue-headed freak.” Thame
murmured and heard a snort from the nearest shadow.
“This one’s alive.” Flance had moved a
few steps from the king’s side, kneeling down beside a pile of marred flesh.
Instantly, a sword was at its throat.
Whisper growled and revealed two oddly pointed teeth. They looked like canine
teeth. Why did he have fangs? “Wait!” If he had been a moment slower with the
word, it would have been too late. Thame walked to the gasping troll as Whisper
grudgingly removed the blade from its bleeding throat. He looked at King
Carrick who nodded. “Why did you bother attacking us?” It wasn’t like the
trolls to attack in such few numbers. They were cowards.
It shifted, made a move to slam sharp
teeth into Thame’s leg. Moving no more than an inch before Whisper shoved a
small but effective dagger through hits hand. It shrieked and tried to pull out
the blade only to receive another in the other hand. This time it cried out but
stilled.
“Why did you attack us?”
Its black eyes jerked to Whisper who
shifted closer to the shadows. “Decoy...”
Thame had that bad feeling rise swiftly
through his gut. “A decoy for what?” When it didn’t answer Whisper took a step
closer. It sputtered and turned its attention fully to Thame.
“Already too late.” Blood dribbled from its
deformed lips.
“You will explain or I’ll let him have
you. “
It hissed once again, spittle mixing with
the cascading blood. “By now, we have your woman.” Its words made Thame’s blood
run cold. “Our mission here...success.”
“Sweet Goddess...Breena.” The words were
quiet, pulled right from his aching, lonely soul. His heart thumped so loud in
his ears he couldn’t hear the Kings orders. Thame lifted into the sky as the
blur of blue finished off the dying troll. He heard two fairies behind him. Didn’t
know who was brave enough to follow him into a battle or Goddess forbid, the
aftermath of one. They were going after his woman, how did they even know about
her? What if he didn’t arrive in time? Questions plagued his mind as he pushed
himself harder than ever before. He had to get to Breena.
The sun settled into the horizon as
dagger from his belt. In seconds, the weapon broke through the rough skin of the
trolls stomach. Warm blood gushed. It shrieked loudly, a high-pitched wail as he
dragged the blade across its throat.
Thame would never be a victim again.
A line of trolls ran over the nearest
hill, the grass was dotted with these ugly things and the weapons they wield.
He roared, loud enough to alert the others and hopefully, instill some fear
into the disgusting creatures.
The moment they reached the bottom of the
small hill, two were met with a blur of blue and fell to their knees clasping
their spurting necks. He was damn glad Whisper was on their side.
His sword rose, he kept the dagger at hip
level as two approached him. He lunged, striking each with a weapon and left both
of them bleeding. He twisted away from the jabs, nearly dancing on his toes to
keep these two at bay. His back hindered every movement. It frustrated him to
no end as he shifted and barely missed the tip of the enemy’s blade.
Pissed, Thame charged them. His sword
connected with the one on the right, his dagger the left. He kicked to the
left. When it hunched over, he used his sword to slash the left ones head clean
off its shoulders. Then he spun, slammed the sword into a gut and jammed his
dagger straight down into its curved back. It went down without a whimper. He
turned to the others, ready to exact more fortifying revenge. There was no
chance. Five trolls lay dead around him. He couldn’t help but think once again
that Whisper was one scary son of a banshee. He turned, sword shifting into
defensive stance.
The King stood at the edge of the mini
battle, hands on his hips with Wick and Flance beside him. “It seems my rush to
get here was for naught.”
“Blame the blue-headed freak.” Thame
murmured and heard a snort from the nearest shadow.
“This one’s alive.” Flance had moved a
few steps from the king’s side, kneeling down beside a pile of marred flesh.
Instantly, a sword was at its throat.
Whisper growled and revealed two oddly pointed teeth. They looked like canine
teeth. Why did he have fangs? “Wait!” If he had been a moment slower with the
word, it would have been too late. Thame walked to the gasping troll as Whisper
grudgingly removed the blade from its bleeding throat. He looked at King
Carrick who nodded. “Why did you bother attacking us?” It wasn’t like the
trolls to attack in such few numbers. They were cowards.
It shifted, made a move to slam sharp
teeth into Thame’s leg. Moving no more than an inch before Whisper shoved a
small but effective dagger through hits hand. It shrieked and tried to pull out
the blade only to receive another in the other hand. This time it cried out but
stilled.
“Why did you attack us?”
Its black eyes jerked to Whisper who
shifted closer to the shadows. “Decoy...”
Thame had that bad feeling rise swiftly
through his gut. “A decoy for what?” When it didn’t answer Whisper took a step
closer. It sputtered and turned its attention fully to Thame.
“Already too late.” Blood dribbled from its
deformed lips.
“You will explain or I’ll let him have
you. “
It hissed once again, spittle mixing with
the cascading blood. “By now, we have your woman.” Its words made Thame’s blood
run cold. “Our mission here...success.”
“Sweet Goddess...Breena.” The words were
quiet, pulled right from his aching, lonely soul. His heart thumped so loud in
his ears he couldn’t hear the Kings orders. Thame lifted into the sky as the
blur of blue finished off the dying troll. He heard two fairies behind him. Didn’t
know who was brave enough to follow him into a battle or Goddess forbid, the
aftermath of one. They were going after his woman, how did they even know about
her? What if he didn’t arrive in time? Questions plagued his mind as he pushed
himself harder than ever before. He had to get to Breena.
The sun settled into the horizon as
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