by Karen Kincy
No, not nearly. If he was unarmed, as he said, then he was her prisoner.
Prisoner? Damn.
Ardis had never taken one of the enemy alive before. It had always been kill or be killed, but he wasn’t making this easy by acting so vulnerable. Now she would have to shackle him somehow and march him back to camp. Well, he was a gentleman, so perhaps there would be a hefty ransom involved, and she—
“My name is Wendel,” he said.
Ardis squinted at him. The battlefield seemed like an odd place for introductions.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will make sure it goes on your grave.”
He laughed, then clutched his ribs. His hand came away red with blood.
“You’re wounded,” she said.
“Very observant.” Wendel wasn’t looking at her now, and pain sharpened his voice. “I might die before you kill me.”
He laughed again, despite himself, and coughed up a spattering of blood in the snow.
Ardis frowned, her fingers even tighter on Chun Yi. She could let Wendel bleed out, but that might not be quick, and she would have to watch the whole thing. Or she could try to salvage him and collect that hypothetical ransom.
Wendel swayed on his feet. “May I sit?” he said. “I don’t think I can—”
He fell to his knees in one swift movement, like a glacier cracking, then crumpled on his side. He reached out, his fingers splayed, and grabbed a fistful of snow as if to claw himself upright. A war dog’s stiff corpse lay nearby, its blood melting the snow where Wendel had fallen. Wendel’s fine coat was altogether ruined now.
Ardis watched him, her jaw taut, and tried to make up her mind. “How bad is it?”
Wendel didn’t look at her. “Bad enough.”
She sheathed Chun Yi, her muscles shaking with fatigue. He reached out again, groping blindly, and his hand closed on the war dog’s paw.
“All right,” Ardis said. “I’m taking you—”
Wendel shuddered, and the dog kicked its legs. Adrenaline jolted into Ardis’s veins. She drew Chun Yi and stepped into a defensive stance. The dog climbed to its feet, its ruined throat gaping, and growled at her.
No breath fogged the winter air.
Ardis braced herself as the dog charged. Its paws thudded in the snow, its fangs glinted in the overcast sun. The dog veered for her left arm, jaws wide, and she dodged right. It spun, nimble for such a huge mastiff—for such a dead mastiff. She retreated, blocking with her sword.
The dog leapt high, aiming for her throat, and she brought Chun Yi up to meet him.
With gritted teeth, she sliced through its thick neck and beheaded it cleanly. The animal crashed into the snow, dead again.
Ardis’s heartbeat raced. She wiped the blood from her blade.
“Well,” Wendel said. “It was worth a try.”
She faced him, but didn’t stand so close this time. Wendel huddled sideways on the ground, his teeth chattering, clearly weaker for having used some of his magic. A widening bloom of blood stained the snow.
“A necromancer?” she said.
There was something remarkably similar to fear in his eyes, but he smiled. “Yes.”
Wendel’s eyes flickered shut, and he collapsed in the snow. She edged closer and nudged him with the flat of her blade. This could be another trick, though she doubted it. If she were lucky, maybe he was already dead.
Ardis sheathed Chun Yi. She crouched and felt for a pulse in his neck. There, beneath her fingers, a faint heartbeat thumped. He was still handsome, even unconscious, even covered in filth and blood. His skin felt warm and soft enough, like any other person’s. Not like a necromancer’s. She shuddered and wiped her hand on the snow.
The burning cold almost erased the feeling of having touched an abomination.
Read more…
Shadows of Asphodel
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Author Bio
Karen Kincy (Duvall, Washington) can be found lurking in her writing cave, though sunshine will lure her outside. When not writing, she stays busy gardening, tinkering with aquariums, or running just one more mile. Karen has a BA in Linguistics and Literature from The Evergreen State College.
Find Karen online at:
www.karenkincy.com
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