Page 153 of Laird of Steel
On sheer instinct, with blind faith, he tightened his fist on his sword and, with agonizing sloth, thrust it forward.
Merraid saw the king’s blade coming toward her.
In another instant, when it came within range, she’d deflect it with herjian.
Of course, she wouldn’t reply to his attack. Feiyan had already informed her of the Rivenloch warriors’ main task in this maelstrom of a melee. Protecting the king.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted another threat.
A more serious threat.
A blade driving straight toward the king.
In an instant, instinct took over.
In one fluid move, she knocked the king’s weapon away and turned to address the oncoming sword.
There wasn’t time to deflect it.
So she did the only thing she could to protect the king.
She used her body to block the blade.
It wasn’t the best option. But it was her only option.
It wasn’t until she felt the sword pierce her side that she felt a twinge of regret.
She’d been slashed by a blade before. Her arms bore thin white scars from training with thejian. And once she’d been gouged in the thigh by a dagger when she wasn’t paying attention.
But this was different. This was a blow with power behind it. A thrust that made her suck a sharp breath through her teeth.
The blade withdrew, and she had time for three thoughts as she clutched her bleeding side, wincing from the pain, and wilted onto the ground.
One, she wondered if she’d saved the king.
Two, she wondered if she was going to die.
And three, she wondered why Gellir had stabbed her.
Chapter 27
“Merraid,” Gellir breathed in horror.
Dropping his crimson-stained blade as if it were on fire, he fell to his knees beside her. He felt sick. Distraught. Devastated.
“Merraid,” he groaned.
God’s eyes, what had he done?
He tore off his helm and cast it aside.
Blood trickled from between her gauntleted fingers as she pressed them against her side, trying to stanch the flow. How badly had he hurt her? Was she mortally wounded?
Guilt made his fingers tremble as he eased off her helm. Her hair spilled across the ground in bright contrast to her pale face as she barely clung to consciousness.
“Merraid,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Stay with me, do you hear? Stay with me.”
She didn’t open her eyes, but she managed to croak, “The king. Is he all right?”
