6
THE ATTACK STARTED from ahead of the travelers, Quinn and his men taking advantage of the rocky landscape and a bend in the road to make noise that echoed around, confusing their prey. The strangers unfolded their pikes and dropped into a military formation to repel the riders coming at them, but ricocheting sound masked the second group, which was closing in from behind. By the time the strangers realized what was happening, the low sun obscured their view of the rear attackers. Half the group attempted to turn and face the new threat.
It was their first mistake.
Two of the foreigners went down with crossbow shots, but the other two archers held their aim, better as a constant threat than a couple more wounds. The riders passed on both sides and swept around, dismounting while the group struggled to reorient themselves. Before they’d fully recovered, the riders closed in on foot.
Quinn created the widest hole in the defense by grabbing the end of one pike with his left hand and sweeping up with his sword, shattering another right at the hinge. With his arm high in the air, he was exposed, but Casseck came into the opening and took out the only man who could have struck a blow, not that he’d had time to realize his momentary advantage. The captain grinned over the success of the move and focused on the next threat.
Prince Robert to his right drove his sword into the gut of one of the Kimisar, and Quinn moved to his side, ready for what he knew was coming. Rob staggered back, eyes wide. Without looking away from his cousin, Quinn slashed and blocked the weapons coming at both of them.
“Rob!” he yelled. “On your right!”
The prince recovered and pulled his sword from the body in front of him, but he was too slow for the weapon coming at him. Quinn had already switched his sword to his left hand to grab the dagger on his waist. In one move, he drew the knife and sent it into the neck of Rob’s attacker. With the sword in his left, he deflected a swinging pike, but not fast enough, and while he didn’t feel the wound, he couldn’t ignore the blood pouring into his left eye. He swung around to cover his weak side and switch sword hands again, but the man who’d wounded him collapsed with a spear in his back.
Ash Carter stepped up on the man at Quinn’s feet to wrench the spear free. The man groaned, but he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon.
Quinn looked around with one eye. The fight was over.
Ash raised an eyebrow at Quinn. “You’re bleeding.”
Quinn wiped his left eye and looked at his friend. “So are you.”
The sergeant swept bloody black hair away from his forehead. “I’ll live.” He looked to his brother. “Are you all right, Rob?”
Robert’s complexion had gone a pasty green. “No.”
Quinn stepped closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “You hurt?”
“No,” Rob gasped. “I’m just … going to be sick.”
Ash appeared under Rob’s other arm, propping him up. “Let’s go for a walk.” He led his brother away. Though Ash was significantly shorter, Rob leaned on him heavily.
Quinn watched them go before turning back to the pile of bodies. Rob’s first taste of combat wasn’t quite as glorious as the prince expected, but it never was. Quinn felt no amusement, only sympathy. Lieutenant Casseck offered him a pungent-smelling rag, and he wiped his face and forehead.
“That’ll have to be sewn up,” Cass said, squinting at the cut.
“Later,” said Quinn. “I want to talk to the survivors.”
“I don’t think there are any.” Casseck shook his head. “It’s like they didn’t even try once they saw our numbers.”
Quinn frowned. “Explains why it was over so quick.” He walked over to the man Ash had speared. “What about this one?” Quinn pushed his sword under the man’s chin to make him lift his face. “Why are you here?” he asked him in Kimisar.
The man raised up on his arms to look at Quinn and grinned as he whispered something Quinn couldn’t hear.
Quinn squatted beside him, looking for hidden weapons before leaning closer, keeping his sword a few inches under the man’s throat, and now angled upward. “What was that?” he asked.
“Go to hell,” the man said, throwing his arms wide. His weight came down on the point of Quinn’s sword, impaling him through the neck. Blood gushed over Quinn’s hand, and he swore and released the weapon, but it was too late.
Quinn rolled the shuddering body over with his foot and pulled his sword free. He searched the dying man’s face for a clue as to why he’d done such a thing, but the dark eyes only stared blankly as an expanding pool of red formed on the gravel road beneath him. Quinn had seen death before, had dealt it plenty of times, but there was something horrifying about a man who took his own life. He shivered and drew his left thumb diagonally across his chest, whispering, “Spirit, shield me,” as several men around him did the same.
He was more careful as he prodded the rest of the bodies for signs of life, but none still breathed, meaning he had no prisoners for questioning.
Damn.
7
THE ROCKY LANDSCAPE made burying the Kimisar bodies time-consuming, but Quinn insisted on doing that rather than burning them or leaving them to rot. His company returned to the main army camp five days later, where word of their confrontation had already been carried by courier. Quinn tried not to smile too much as heads turned and faces gathered to greet them. No one could doubt he’d deserved his promotion now.
Quinn led his company down the wide path between rows of wooden shelters set up for storage and smithing through the winter. Within a few weeks, they’d all be dismantled and the army itself would begin to move like a bear awakening from hibernation. The stables were already half down with cavalry patrols active. He drew his brown mare to a halt outside the structure and signaled for everyone to dismount.
A small body crashed into him as his feet touched the ground. “Alex!”
Quinn gave his younger brother a squeeze, glad he was surrounded enough that only his friends could see him. “Hey there, Charlie.”
The page stepped back, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, sir. I forgot.” He brought his hand to his forehead in a proper salute, which the captain solemnly returned.
When Quinn lowered his hand, he brought it down on Charlie’s dark hair. “You’re getting shaggy, kid.”