Liam skidded to a stop.
“Run, Liam.” Ryder pointed away from the carriage with his chin. “Go.” Then he turned his attention back to Lord Purdun’s elite guardsmen.
Liam couldn’t move. He just stood there, watching his brother’s blood spill to the ground.
Ryder couldn’t stand, but he held the remaining three guardsmen at bay from his knees. He swung his long sword in a wide arc, then jabbed at them with the sharp tip. Each strike was accompanied by another splash of blood. The guards took a step back, and Ryder turned to look at Liam.
“Look after Samira. Tell her I love her.”
With Ryder’s attention turned away, the biggest of the three guardsmen charged forward.
The blood in Liam’s veins suddenly ran cold.
“Ryder, look out!”
“Run, Liam.” Ryder turned and brought his blade up, right into the guardsman’s gut.
The big man let out a screech as he impaled himself. Ryder held the hilt of his sword as best as he could, but the guardsman in all of his armor was just too heavy, and the big man fell forward, smothering Ryder.
For a moment, every inch of Liam’s body tingled. It was as if he was trying to fight against the forward movement of time, and it tore at his skin. It was the moment in which he would lose his brother. It was the moment of his greatest failure, and he desperately wanted to go back, to stop everything before that instant, to replay the moments of his life over and over again, always stopping before he reached that last part.
Four more soldiers came around the back of the carriage.
Liam stood there stunned, the fibers of his body struggling to keep him rooted in time—but it was no use. It was a fight he could not win.
The other guards wasted no time, charging in, stabbing at Ryder’s prone body. Liam winced, the wounds of his brother stung doubly for Liam. He wished desperately that it could be him lying their on the ground. He wished he could trade places with his brother, take his place under the killing blows of the guardsmen.
The whole thing had gone terribly, terribly wrong. His face grew hot, and he began to see red. The trap was yet further proof of the treachery of Lord Purdun.
Liam’s lip curled up into a sneer. His body was steeled by the hatred and pain coursing through his body. The baron would pay, but first his guardsmen would all be sent to the Nine Hells. Liam lifted his sword.
“Liam …” came a strangled voice.
Liam looked to the ground to see Kharl. The young man was still alive, but he was bleeding from a large wound in his side.
“Liam … please help me.”
Liam looked back at Ryder. His brother had stopped moving. He lay on the ground, his torso bent back over his heels, still gripping the hilt of his sword. The big guardsman lay on top of him, impaled on the tip of his blade. The fury that had momentarily taken hold of him suddenly fled. His hatred turned to sadness, and his arms felt tired and weak.
“I’ll tell her,” he said. “I’ll make sure she knows.”
With what little strength remained in his body, Liam turned away from his brother and helped Kharl up from the ground.
Coming September 2005
from Wizards of the Coast
About the Author
Kameron M. Franklin was first
introduced to roleplaying games
in the third grade. Coincidentally,
that’s also when he began writing
stories, which he would read to the
class during Show & Tell. Twenty
years later, living in the Pacific
Northwest with his family, Kameron’s
dream of being an author
came true when he was selected by
Wizards of the Coast to write the
FORGOTTEN REALMS® novel Maiden
of Pain. He hopes it will be less
than another twenty years before he
is penning books full time. Visit his
website at www.kameronmf.com
and follow his progress.
Maiden of Pain Page 27
