Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [53]
The man is dazed by the blow and Tinok easily gets within his guard dropping him to the floor.
Tinok comes over to the struggling pair on the floor, neither one has been able to gain the advantage over the other. Laying his knife across Hassin’s throat, he looks into his eyes and can see him contemplating different courses of action and their consequences. Suddenly, he makes his decision and releases his grip on the knife. His eyes flick murderous hate between them both as Roland gets to his feet, holding the knife.
Roland looks and sees his wife standing there with their baby clutched in her arms, eyes filled with uncertainty and fear, her face turning red from where Hassin had slapped her. She says something to him and he goes over to her, replying in the same language. Giving her a hug for reassurance, he speaks to her again and she nods a reply as she goes and gets a satchel which she begins to fill with clothes and other things.
Turning back to Tinok, who still has his knife to Hassin’s throat and his knee on his chest, he asks, “What are we going to do with him?”
“You know him better than I do,” replies Tinok, never taking his eyes off his captive. “Should we kill him or not?”
At that, Hassin’s eyes widen slightly but gives no other response to what is being said.
“I hate to kill someone who’s helpless to resist,” Roland replies. “Even one who tried to kill me.”
“I have no such qualms about this piece of trash,” Tinok says seriously. “Take your family outside and wait for me.” He looks intently at Roland then turns his attention back to Hassin.
Roland takes the satchel from his wife and then ushers her out the front door, closing it behind them.
Once the door is shut, Tinok turns his attention back to Hassin and says, “Since your people destroyed my city, I have been waiting for my revenge and the time has come for a part of it.” Looking into eyes now filled with fear where contempt and hate had been, he continues, “This is for my little brother.”
With a quick motion of his hand, he slits Hassin’s throat and stares into his eyes as the life slowly leaves them. Choking and gasping from the blood filling his lungs and spreading across the floor, Hassin tries to stop the bleeding with his hands, but is unsuccessful. Tinok gets up and stands back as he jerks in his death throes until finally becoming still.
Wiping his blade on the dead man’s shirt, he says to the now lifeless body, “Thus begins my revenge for the destruction your people has brought unto mine.” Turning his back to the room filled with death, he goes to the door and leaves, joining Roland and his family outside.
Roland leads them around back where there’s a stable with two horses inside. Roland saddles them while Tinok keeps an eye out for anyone coming. When he’s done, he helps his wife up onto the horse and then hands their baby up to her. Swinging up onto the other horse, he takes her horse’s reins and leads them out to where Tinok is waiting at the front of the house.
Moving as quickly as they can, they make it back to where James is waiting.
“Any trouble?” he asks Tinok.
“None worth mentioning,” he replies as he mounts his horse.
Roland just glances over to Tinok but says nothing.
The baby starts crying and his mother bares a breast and begins to feed it as they ride through the town. Riding as quickly as they can, they clear the edge of town, which by now is completely deserted. Everyone has either fled or is in their homes with the door barred.
Moving quickly along the road for a couple hours, they come to where Delia and Cassie wait with the wagons. James is relieved when he sees the wagons and girls are fine and undisturbed, he had been worried about them. The girls have a fire going, and Cassie is awake as they approach. When she sees who it is, she wakes up Delia, saying excitedly, “They’re back!”
Delia wakes up, happy at seeing them back unharmed, but surprised at the appearance of his wife and son.
“We couldn’t leave his wife and child there,” Tinok explains, “so we brought them