Word of Traitors_ Legacy of Dhakaan - Don Bassingthwaite [20]
Ashi hissed and darted around her, launching a flurry of blows to drive Makka back before he could strike a second time. He tried to hold her at the length of his trident, but she twisted like a weasel, slipped inside his reach, and slashed at him. His heavy bear hide vest turned the blow. He kicked and managed to catch her. Ashi stumbled back, sucking breath through her teeth—and saw him draw a sword from a sheath at his belt.
The sword he had taken from her. Kagan d’Deneith’s bright honor blade.
Her eyes went wide and Makka grinned, exposing sharp teeth. “This sword will kill you,” he snarled in Goblin. “This is my vengeance!”
Maybe he mistook what he saw in her face for fear, but if he thought the threat or the sight of the stolen sword could frighten her, he was wrong.
A tremble ran through her. The world seemed to sharpen as blood roared in her ears. Her lips twisted to expose teeth stained red with her own blood. Goblin words tore themselves out of her, starting as a snarl and ending as a scream. “Give. That. Back!”
Ashi had moved like a weasel before. She moved like a tiger now, attacking with a ferocity that put Makka on the defensive. The bugbear stood a full head taller than her. He weighed probably twice as much as she did. She still forced him back. Her attacks fell with such speed and force that it was all he could do to block them, first with the bright Deneith sword, then with the shaft of the trident. Desperation started to show on his face—vengeance seemed forgotten and all of his attention was focused on Ashi as she pushed him step by step across the space between the buildings.
She chopped down with her sword. Makka raised his trident to block it—and the stout wooden shaft, already deeply gouged, snapped. Deflected, the sword nicked his arm. They staggered apart, but rage surged in Ashi and she lunged. This time her blade cut across his side. She felt it grate along Makka’s ribs, then catch flesh and plunge deep. He howled and dropped the broken trident to lash out blindly with a fist.
The blow was lucky. It caught her on the shoulder and threw her to one side, breaking her attack.
But Ekhaas was there. In the instant that Ashi fell, she heard the duur’kala’s song swell. The music was different this time though, not hard and battering, but strangely thick. Ashi saw Makka struggle, his movements slow and dragging as if he were underwater. For a moment, it seemed as if his muscles would lock, betraying him—
“No!” he roared—and smashed his arm into his wounded side.
Ashi saw pain cross his face and his limbs moved freely again, magic’s grip broken by the sudden agony. Ekhaas scowled and let her song fade, but raised her sword. Ashi rolled to her feet and faced Makka, ready to carry on the fight. The bugbear’s small eyes narrowed and his ears curled. Ashi slid close, blade ready.
Makka spun around and took two long strides to the corner where the hobgoblin children huddled and cried. He grabbed the first one his fingers found and dragged it up in front of him, the Deneith sword held across its squirming body. At the touch of the steel, the child went still and silent.
Ashi stopped. From the corner of her eye, she saw Ekhaas freeze, too.
Makka didn’t say anything. Moving slowly and leaving a bloody trail behind him, he slid sideway across the wall. The alley leading out of the yard was close. Ashi started to shadow him, but he pulled the bright blade tighter and the child whimpered.
She stopped. He would kill the child. She knew it in her gut.
Makka stepped into the alley, walking backward until he was out of sight. A moment later, the hobgoblin child came running out of the alley, face taut with terror.
Ashi was waiting for that. She leaped to the alley mouth, but the shadowed passage was empty. A swirling crowd filled the street at its far end.