Storm Bride Read Online Free Page A

he could fight in the sun, but he didn’t welcome the prospect of a battle with men weaving in and out of the canyon’s shadow.
    Someone was running toward them on the road ahead. As soon as he heard it, he snapped to attention. A young man, on foot, his pace wild with terror.
    To his left, the two young warriors tensed and glanced at him. Keshlik nodded and pointed forward. Rushyak cantered his mare forward, his spear held ready. He aligned the runner with the spear, crouched forward, and tensed. The lad at first didn’t seem to see them, then he began to shout and wave his arms as if seeking their aid.
    Keshlik saw the moment the boy spotted the stripes on their faces, the speed with which the mounted warrior approached, and the glint of the spearhead. He froze in mid-stride, fell to a knee in the dirt, then attempted to scramble to the right.
    It was far too late. With a flick of his knees, Rushyak angled the horse to intercept then split the lad’s back with a spear-strike. He pulled his spear loose from the victim’s back as his horse thundered over the boy, and he circled back and planted three more holes between his victim’s ribs.
    A rumble sounded off the canyon’s walls as the main body of the retreat approached. Two men on foot running toward them, with a wagon driver frantically beating his draft ponies not far behind them. Keshlik nodded at Danut, the other young man, then trotted his own mare forward. Bhaalit moved of his own accord. Keshlik’s mare trotted, her ears back, ready to charge, waiting for the cry.
    It was time to fight.
    Keshlik raised his spear and screamed, and his horse bolted forward. He leaned forward into his horse’s neck, one hand in her striped mane, the other clutching his spear. A man retreating on foot had peeled off to the right, and Danut chased after him into the dimness of the dust. The wagon driver, his face white with panic, saw Keshlik approaching and veered to the creek bank, but Keshlik’s spear found his throat anyway, driving him from his saddle. The riderless horse fled, and Keshlik wheeled back toward the center of the melee.
    Rushyak and Danut flanked the overturned cart, stabbing at the others who came fleeing down the ravine. Bhaalit had already felled two runners and was advancing on another.
    Keshlik charged past them and impaled two panicked men with one spear, then trampled a third under his mare’s hooves. Further up the canyon, a man was screaming at his frothing ponies to budge an overturned load. Keshlik relieved the man of his concerns by driving a spear into the man’s eye.
    The battle-glad war cries of his brother’s band suddenly surrounded him. He had reached Juyut’s band advancing from the other side, and when he turned to the center of the road, he found himself riding into a reef of bleeding men and crushed wagons. Some fighting still remained, as a few of the caravan drivers had armed themselves with clubs or knives. Keshlik crossed the battlefield twice, stabbing the windpipes of those he saw still moaning on the ground, then found Bhaalit at ease atop his horse.
    “Heya!” he shouted and smacked the shaft of his spear. “Did you fight well?”
    “Golgoyat himself fought among us,” Bhaalit said, with a laconic gesture at the carnage of blood and dust around them.
    “Did any get past you?”
    “None. Where’s Juyut?”
    “Up ahead. You stay and organize the plunder while I track him down.”
    Warriors saluted Keshlik with cries of “Heya!” as he passed, waving bloodied spears over their heads. He picked his way through the path of ruined carts, wagons, and bodies. At the end, he spotted Juyut on horseback in a circle of three others, a bound but living man lying on the ground between them.
    “Heya!” Juyut shouted when he saw Keshlik approaching. “We’ve crushed our enemies!”
    “Enemies who fled like rabbits.” Keshlik grunted. In truth, Juyut had done well, but it wouldn’t do to praise him too much. “What is this