Day of War Read Online Free Page B

barely disguise their envy. He was relieved that the bow itself had not broken, but it would take him awhile to string it properly again, and he certainly did not want to do it in cold weather.
    Benaiah raked his fingers through his beard, then pulled the collar of his tunic away from his neck, a nervous habit he had picked up and could not shake. After a count, he hoisted the boy onto his shoulders.
    “We are only an hour’s walk above the village if we cut straight down from here,” Jairas said. “It would be rougher going but a much shorter journey.”
    Benaiah nodded.
    Snow was falling steadily now, filling the barren spaces on the ground that the previous storm had missed. After a few moments of stumbling, they started to make good progress. Benaiah became hopeful that they would make it down from the pass before the storm settled in and made travel impossible.
    He had just begun to relax his breathing and find a rhythm in his steps when another lion attacked.
    The animal had been lying in wait in a small thicket on the slope. The hot roar blew across Benaiah’s face as the paws, with immense force, struck his head. He dropped Haratha and threw his arms in front of the lion’s jaws, his throat scratching out a cry and his legs giving way. The power was overwhelming. He could see nothing but golden fur, feel nothing but the lion’s crushing strength.
    Like the other lion, this one wrapped him up with its paws and was trying to bite his neck. Heat and steam from the lion’s breath covered him. The lion’s screams made him dizzy as he fought— although all he could do was roll his body to the side, away from Haratha. Benaiah felt like vomiting as the rancid breath closed around his face.
    They rolled several times down the mountainside, one of Benaiah’s arms pinned to his side by the lion’s weight and strength. Benaiah wrenched away from the jaws as they snapped for his neck. A fang caught his scalp and he felt hot, blinding pain.
    The ground gave way on one side, and he sensed that they were struggling on the edge of a drop-off of some kind, either a cliff or a pit. Something erupted in his strength, his right arm slipped out of the lion’s grip, and he shoved the creature as hard as he could while stabbing its eye with his thumb. It released its grip, slipped onthe loose, icy rocks, and tumbled backward into a pit. The animal landed with a thump on the bottom.
    Benaiah wiped blood from his forehead where the claws had gashed him and staggered back up the slope. He had to find a weapon quickly. The lion might leap out of the pit at any moment and resume the attack. The wounds in his skin burned like coals; he was losing a lot of blood.
    The commotion had revived Haratha, who was now sitting up and insisting to Jairas that he could walk. The older man argued that the boy would further damage his body if he did not remain still.
    “No, take advantage of his strength,” Benaiah said to Jairas. “Let him walk with you back down the mountain. You need to get him back quickly, and it will take too long if you drag him. I will climb into the pit and get the lion.”
    “Don’t be a fool. It will tear you apart.”
    Benaiah ignored him and knelt by Haratha.
    “Let me stay with you,” said Haratha. He still looked dazed, the loss of blood turning his skin as pale as the snow around them. Benaiah had seen these erratic bursts of energy from wounded men before. He would become delirious soon.
    “Who is your father?” Benaiah asked.
    “Eleb.”
    “Haratha son of Eleb, you fought well today. You will return to your woman if you can manage to stay awake.”
    “I … have no woman. I am trying, though.”
    They all laughed and Benaiah clapped him on his good shoulder. He helped Haratha to his feet and the young man leaned against Jairas for support.
    Roars erupted from the pit behind them. They could hear thudding and crashing as smaller rocks cascaded. Benaiah considered going back down to the village with