Dragon Tree Read Online Free

leading the way straight
and true to the small hamlet.
    Within
minutes, Tamberlane and Roland had ridden close enough to the
village for them to draw a reign for caution, slowing their
approach, waiting for the rest of the woodsmen to run up and fan
out behind them.
    After a brief,
muffled conferment, they split into two groups. Tamberlane took the
wolfhounds—Maude and Hugo—and circled to the east, while Roland led
the five foresters around to the west. The screams had ended, but
there was shouting now and the occasional robust laugh to indicate
that the victors were celebrating their success. They were arrogant
in their triumph, for there were no sentries left to guard their
backs. Roland was easily able to creep to the edge of the forest
without being seen.
    He deployed
the huntsmen and waited until each had taken cover behind the stout
trunk of a tree. From his own position he could see the charred
ribs of the cottages, the smoke thinning now as most of the huts
fell to ruin. He could also see the men-at-arms starting to move
amongst the dead and dying, kicking bodies onto their backs,
searching for signs of life, cutting into still-warm flesh to
retrieve the valuable iron tips of their arrows.
    The squire
waited an impatient three minutes. He raked a hand through the
golden waves of his hair and glanced repeatedly at the far side of
the clearing, expecting his overlord to thunder out at any
moment.
    “Roland! Look
there!”
    One of the
foresters stabbed a finger in the direction of the burned huts. Two
of the soldiers had found a young girl who was still alive, and
without paying heed to her cries for mercy, dragged her into the
clearing and threw her down onto the ground. While one knelt down
to hold a knife against her throat, the other started to unbuckle
his belt and lower his leggings.
    Roland drew
two arrows from his quiver. With one clenched between his teeth, he
stepped out from behind the tree, raised his bow, and struck the
first attacker down with a clean shot to the heart. The second was
dead before knowing the cause for his comrade’s shocked cry.
    Just as death
had come swift and unseen to the villagers, it streaked out of the
forest now and took the raiders unawares. Most were caught out in
the open and after the first flush of arrows found their marks,
they scattered in confusion. The three knights at the edge of the
clearing drew their swords and lowered their visors but by then
they too had become targets and one screamed as an arrow caught him
high on the thickest meat of the thigh.
    On the far
side of the village, Tamberlane cursed when he realized Roland had
not waited, but had launched his arrows already. Ciaran had
followed the riverbank, intending to circle around the village and
attack from the far side, but his progress had been halted by the
sight of one of the knights dismounted and standing over the body
of a young peasant girl. It was obvious he had chased her to ground
after she fled the village. It was equally obvious that he was not
content to merely finish his work quickly and return to the others,
for his sword was drawn and he had used the point to ruck the
maid’s skirts above her waist. Where the steel had touched her skin
with ungentle purpose, it had scored bright red lines of blood to
mark its path.
    At the sound
of shouts and more fighting, the knight had given pause, his blade
poised over the cleft between the maid’s thighs.
    He had not yet
seen Tamberlane, though that was about to change as an arrow cut
swiftly across his path and thudded into the soft earth of the
embankment.
    Swearing at
his own ineptness, Tamberlane nocked a second arrow and drew the
fletching back to his cheek. The two fingers that were curled
around the rosined string snapped free and sent the arrow shooshing across the fifty feet that separated him from the
startled knight who was now twisting around, searching for his
unseen foe. The knave’s chest was surely as broad as any thousand
year old