The Wounded Guardian Read Online Free Page B

his sword to end the man’s suffering.
    ‘Wait!’
    Martil checked his stroke and looked down into the brutal young face. Pain and blood had etched lines into the areas that were not covered by the thick, tangled beard, while the eyes showed cunning, and a touch of desperation.
    ‘I have a half-sister. Her name is Karia. She’s only six. Da remarried after Ma died having Leten over there.’ He jerked his head to indicate his brother with the cut throat.
    ‘Do you want me to take her and her mother somewhere?’ Martil found himself asking. The guiltover the way he had lost control came bubbling up and he found himself eager, more than eager, to make amends. Eager, also, to be away from this place. He could grab the woman and child, take them to a village and give them money. That could make up for this , he told himself.
    Blackbeard shook his head and then bit his lip at the effort it cost him.
    ‘No. Her mother died giving birth to her. We left Karia at our camp, about two hundred paces west.’
    ‘Then what do you want me to do?’
    ‘Take her across the border into Tetril, to the village of Thest. We have kin there. My uncle Danir. He’ll take care of her.’
    Martil had only a sketchy idea of the border around here but knew it was a ride of a week or more. His guilt was strong and fresh, but it could only go so far.
    ‘I’ll take her to the next village and then pay for her to travel there,’ he offered.
    ‘I beg you! She must go to Danir!’ The giant paused for breath and some of the desperation in his voice was replaced by pleading. ‘He will reward you when you arrive and you cannot leave her to die here! She’s the only remaining part of our family.’
    Martil wanted to refuse. Anyone could see taking a small girl to a village days away was going to be a nightmare. Let alone a small girl whose father and brothers you had just slaughtered.
    But his guilt was choking him. He could not add the death of a small child to that. The blood on his hands was literally too fresh. Besides, this was peaceful Norstalos. What could happen? And she was only six! How much trouble could a small girl be?
    ‘All right,’ he said heavily.
    ‘Swear to Aroaril!’ the giant gasped, his face growing paler.
    Martil hesitated. An oath to a God was never made lightly. You never knew when they might decide to hold you to it.
    ‘Swear!’
    Martil’s guilt got the better of his common sense. Even though the young robber was dying, he wanted to show the man he was not just another mad sword-killer. ‘I swear by Aroaril to take Karia to her uncle Danir, in the village of Thest,’ he intoned.
    The giant relaxed, and lay back struggling for air.
    ‘Now there is one last thing you must do for me,’ he grunted.
    Martil nodded and closed his eyes, so he did not see the flare of triumph on the young man’s face before his sword struck home. Grimly he wrapped his hands in the bloodstained clothing and dragged the bodies of Edil and his sons off the road, grimacing at the stench of open bowels and blood. Then he washed his hands and his mouth out once more before walking Tomon up the road. That way, when he returned with the girl, she would not have to see the bodies of her father and brothers.
    It was only when he was ready to start walking into the trees to get her that he started to realise the true enormity of the promise he had just made. Why would a small girl want to go anywhere with a strange man? What would he tell her about her family? How would she travel, what would she eat, where would she sleep?
    He almost jumped onto Tomon and rode away at that point. There had to be a village nearby where he could report the attack and the missing girl. Thenhe paused. What if the girl wandered off and died in the forest? Whatever the sins of her family, she had not tried to rob and kill him. He was finding it hard enough to look in the mirror as it was. Could his conscience stand another child’s death?
    ‘And you’re talking to