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Thank you. Your review has been submitted and will appear here shortly. Reviews Rated 5 out of 5 by Matt from Good solid read This book is quite good wish it was longer haha would deffinately recommend this book to others!!!!! Date published: Rated 5 out of 5 by Francois from Very touching and entertaining I really liked this book. She held the blade out to him and their eyes met. He spoke a few words in the ancient tongue and put his hand on her brow.
You carry my heart in you, and my life in your arms. I do not die tonight, so long as you live. As she floated downward she heard a noise come from the room above and Tyndal turned back to the bedroom. Men were forcing the door inward, pushing the furniture aside. Tyndal walked toward them with fire dripping from his hands. A second later he was lost to her sight as she drifted lower. The night grew bright for a moment as flames shot from the balcony.
The fire grew, brighter and brighter till it seemed as bright as the sun, consuming their bedroom and a large portion of that floor of the keep. Then it dimmed, fading back to an orange glow as the keep began to burn from within. Elena reached the ground and gazed upward a moment longer. Then she looked away and began running for the stables. She wept silently as she ran, holding her infant son.
She reached the stable in less than a minute and ducked inside.
The Blacksmith's Son
Amazingly the place was empty. They rode across the castle yard and through the gatehouse. There were men and horses gathered outside but she caught them by surprise and was past before they could try to stop her. Looking back over her shoulder she could see them mounting to follow, shouting at her to stop. She paid them no heed and rode on, flying headlong into the night. She rode through the night, pushing her mount, hoping to outdistance her pursuers. Sometime near dawn her horse faltered and nearly fell, forcing her to stop.
She dismounted hastily before her mount collapsed. She had ridden it to death.
The horse was blowing hard and its mouth was covered in froth but she had no time to mourn it. It sank to its knees, and trying hard not to think, Elena opened the artery in its neck, giving it a quick release. I have seen nothing but death this night, and I have nothing but more of it ahead of me, she thought.
Another day she might have shed tears to have slain such a beautiful animal, but there were none left in her. She lifted her son and began to walk. As the hours drew on the pain in her belly grew worse till it felt as though her stomach was on fire. Eventually she found herself on the road again, and she walked eastward into the rising sun. She kept walking. She could see smoke rising beyond the next hill so there must be a dwelling nearby. An hour later she was having trouble thinking clearly. Her mouth was dry and her body was hot. Fever had set in and she feared that she would collapse before reaching help.
Glancing over her shoulder she saw a man following, a hundred yards back. By his clothes she could tell he was one of the assassins from the night before. Adrenaline gave her a moment of clarity and she sped up. He was afoot so she figured he must have ridden his horse to death trying to catch her during the night.
Her body was weak, too weak, and even the adrenaline failed to give her enough strength. The man drew steadily closer and she knew the result was inevitable. He was only twenty yards back now, and she could hear him breathing hard as he approached. He was striding heavily while she stumbled along. She could not continue and she had no strength to fight. Setting her son down she turned back.
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Five steps She lay face down with the sword she had taken cradled beneath her. She would not think of it as her own sword; that sword had been broken. She heaved great lungfuls of air and dust from the road as she tried to get some strength back. Her only hope was that he was stupid enough to have some sport of her before he killed her. She waited till he stood above her, hoping he would pause. She seemed helpless, which was almost the full truth.
The Blacksmith's Son (Mageborn Book 1) (English Edition) by Michael G. Manning
Standing there he decided he was too tired for fun and drew his sword. Why not share! Embed Size px.