The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path by Brock Deskins Page B

hoped to trap at least one of them between our two forces and destroy them within the month, but I fear I risk tipping my hand too soon. I will have to march on North Haven afterward and put her to siege immediately after we crush Jarvin’s army, and I do not relish the thought of besieging that city in the winter. I expect to bring her down within a matter of weeks if not days, but it would be foolish to risk getting stuck outside the walls during their horrendous winters.”
    “So you plan to have us take North Haven first thing in the spring, before they can bring in their harvests just in case she proves to be a harder nut to crack.” Kayne mused, stroking the small wedge of hair on his chin with a finger.
    “Precisely. I would like you and your cavalry to winter in Southport as my guests. I can integrate you into my own forces and no one will suspect your true identities so long as your men do not bring undo attention to themselves. Then, under the cover of night, I will send you out on small raiding runs just to keep Jarvin on his toes and force him to maintain his patrols. When I decide to crush them, his army will be tired and their moral low. From there we will ride to North Haven and put that frigid bitch and her fiery daughter to heel!” Ulric crowed gleefully.
     

CHAPTER 5
     
     
    Brandon heard the unmistakable sound of splintering bone and drew his cutlass, turning slowly in circles. “Carter—Carter are you ok? Damn it man, answer me!”
    Brandon saw the dark silhouette approaching through the fog. He knew right away that it was not Carter. The man was easily a head taller and a good deal wider than even the big oarsman was. It was not until the figure was within three or four feet that the guard could make out the man’s features. He was tall, his long blond hair was braided into several unruly ropes down the back of his neck, and he wore nearly no clothing at all. How the man managed to not freeze to death was beyond him.
    The big man reached out at Brandon as if to embrace him in a brotherly hug. Brandon swung his cutlass with all his might, discarding any attempt at skilled swordsmanship and severed the giant’s left arm at the elbow. The only thing more disconcerting than watching the pale limb drop nearly bloodlessly to the ground was that the Northman still did not make a sound, did not cry out in pain, shock, or rage. The man did not even change the blank, seemingly unseeing stare on his ashen face.
    “Alarm!” Brandon shouted as he tried to reverse his stroke but he had swung with so much force that it carried his blade too far to his left to bring it swiftly back around and the mute creature clubbed him hard in the left side of his head with his remaining arm.
    The blow sent Brandon crashing to the ground, his ears ringing like church bells, and his vision full of dizzying, flashing lights. He watched the big Eislander stalk silently towards his prone form and raise a big, fur-lined boot to crush his head like the shell of a snail. Brandon tried to grasp his cutlass in his nerveless hand through the haze of pain and his concussion, but it was so numb it may as well have belonged to someone else.
    The long steel head of a pike burst through the shirtless chest of the man that had just killed Carter and nearly himself. The force of the thrust sent the big man toppling to the ground yet he was impossibly trying to regain his feet as John stepped on his back, pulled the big pike out, and thrust it home a second, then a third time as the man refused to die.
    Tent flaps were thrown wide as Toron and the rest of southern men bounded out into the frosty night air, fully dressed with weapons in hand. They barely had time to take in the scene when more large forms began scrabbling over the man-high wall of snow. Some moved with a mindless slowness much like the one that had killed Carter, but others moved swiftly, swinging weapons or just using their big fists.
    The chaos was compounded as the