Page 75 of Blood Weaver
His friend dipped his hand into his pants and groaned. “Come on, James,” Sam rushed the bald soldier. “Quit your yapping and get on with it. I don’t have all day!”
James reached for my trouser button and tore the fabric. Panic rose like bile, and I kicked and screamed for all I was worth. The force was enough to unravel the loosened rope threads and they broke loose with a pop. Grabbing the man’s bald head with both hands, I dug my thumbs into his eye sockets.
His agonized scream alerted his friend to the fact I was no longer bound. Sam pulled his hand out of his pants and backhanded me hard enough to split my lip and draw blood.I released his filthy companion and cowered against the tent’s edge.
“Stupid bitch!” The soldier grabbed a hunk of my hair and dragged me across the ground into an open space. Flinging me away forcefully, I fell onto my side with a wince. Then he dropped to the ground and grabbed my legs in a punishing grip I knew would leave bruises.
I kicked like my life depended on it, because it did.
“Come on, girl, play nice like you did for those Crimson barbarians,” Sam grunted as he tried to restrain my flailing legs and arms.
“Get off me!” I screamed. In my panic-fueled state, I couldn’t keep my powers at bay any longer. I began to boil his blood, focusing on the vessels in his head.
He wiped sweat off his forehead and breathed heavily. “James!” he called out to his bald friend. “Is it just me or is it incredibly hot right now?”
James, who was temporarily blinded and still kneeling on the ground answered, “It’s just you, mate.”
My hate was a living, breathing entity as I glared at my would-be rapist. “I said I’d kill you if you touched me!” I whirled my legs out and locked them around his neck before pinning him to the ground. Startled, he released my wrists.
“Fuckin’ bitch!” Sam growled as I choked him.
James crawled around the tent with squinted eyes, trying to locate his friend. “What’s going on, Sam?”
I tightened my legs and heard the satisfying crunch of broken cartilage. Sam tried to drag slips of air through his crushed windpipe and wheezed, “Help!”
When James crawled within arm’s reach, I punched him in the throat and sent him careening to the ground with another howl of pain.
In the midst of all this, the tent flaps opened and Mykal strode into the chaos. He frowned and demanded, “What in the bloody hell is going on?”
Two soldiers ran inside the tent, their eyes wide and startled. They dipped their heads and saluted. “Where were you two?” he asked the guards.
“We uh … were taking a quick break,” one of them muttered. “We left her with Sam and James,” he quickly added.
Mykal flicked his eyes over Sam and James, who gasped and choked for air, then he turned his attention to me. “And you’re free because?” he questioned with a frown.
“These two just tried to assault me!” I growled and tightened my legs around Sam’s windpipe.
Mykal’s expression darkened with a ferocity I’d never encountered on someone’s face before. For a second, I thought it was directed at me. Then he lunged and grabbed James by the scruff of his neck.
“Is this true?” he demanded of the burly man who was still trying to catch his breath.
“We … we weren’t … doing … anything wrong, Commander!” the man gasped. “She’s just a Crimson whore—”
“Watch your mouth!” Mykal yelled. “I don’t carewhoshe is! No one gave you permission to touch her!”
The bald man’s eyes bulged. “But we thought—”
“You thought wrong.” Mykal tossed him aside with a disgusted sneer. “You two!” He pointed to the hapless guards. “Forty lashings for leaving your post. As for these two …” he motioned to James and Sam, “behead them and toss their corpses into the mountains for the wolves.”
“Commander, please!” James begged. “We’re sorry!” He crawled and grabbed Mykal’s pant leg, but Mykal kicked him away.
“I didn’t train you to be mindless savages,” he spat. “You know my rules: no second chances.” He pointed to Sam, but directed his command to me. “Release him. He’ll get what he deserves. Follow me.”
Without checking to see if I would obey, Mykal stormed out of the tent. I contemplated whether to stay or follow, and reluctantly chose the latter. I unlocked my legs from around Sam’s throat and rushed past the stunned guards, jogging to catch up to Mykal’s long strides.
The sprawling Keldaran camp was far larger than I imagined. Rows upon rows of meticulously arranged tents were separated with ample space for quick mobilization. Campfires glowed in the distance, the light reflecting off the Keldaran soldiers’ polished armor. The murmurs of men, distant clangs of swords against shields, and soft horse wickers combined to create a symphony of organized chaos.
Giant banners bearing the emblem of Keldara—a fierce, rearing black stallion set against a backdrop of blood-red – billowed majestically in the stout breeze to mark the heart of the army's territory. Sentries stationed at regular intervals glanced suspiciously at Mykal and me as we crossed the camp, their eyes scrutinizing every movement, the grip on their spears unwavering.
