“Ust!” Hook howled. “Ust, he cut off my legs!”
An ugly chuckle rumbled from Ust. “Guess you don’t get to watch the fun. Pity. Knew you were eager for what was left over.”
“Laynet! Jamis!” gasped Hook. “Help me. Anbrian, please! He cut off my legs!”
Anbrian kicked one of the severed legs away and barked an ugly laugh. “Guess you’ll need some hooks for those, too.”
Jamis spat on Hook as he strolled by, following Ust out onto the lawn.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ōbhin kicked, struggling to break out of Ust’s iron grip. The feeling in his toes retreated. He cradled his right wrist to his chest as he struggled to think. He had to escape. There had to be a way for him to kill this bastard.
He kicked his free foot into the back of Ust’s calf. He gasped. It was like hitting living marble. Ust didn’t even look back. He kept marching across the yard towards the manor house looming ahead in the fog.
“Niszeh’s Black Tone!” spat Ōbhin. He searched for a weapon.
Roars burst out of the fog. To the left, from the blackberry gate, Cerdyn and Aduan appeared out of the swirling vapor, their binders glowing bright, their chainmail rattling. Cerdyn had almost Stone’s bulk, and Aduan wasn’t much smaller. They knew how to crack heads. They could tangle up Ust and his bandits with ease.
Ōbhin didn’t think it would be enough.
*
She could hear the shouts drifting through the foggy night.
“Avena, don’t,” Miguil hissed as she grabbed the heavy brass handle, her finger on the latch.
“I have to know.” Her binder clutched in her right hand, her digit poised to activate it, she wrenched open the door.
Fog swirled before her. Footsteps thudded. Men shouted in the fog. Ōbhin, Smiles, Fingers, Bran, and the new guards were fighting out there. Her stomach twisted. That helpless pit swelled inside of her. Purple flared in the fog, a binder activating.
Someone screamed in pain.
They were fighting, and she was just standing here. Again!
She took a step onto the porch when Miguil seized her from behind and hauled her back inside. She gasped and struggled against his strength. She whirled around to face him as Pharon slammed shut the door, his backsword drawn and held low.
“What are you doing?” she demanded of her former promised. She stared up at him, her brow scrunching in annoyance. “They’re fighting out there! I need to help!”
“You’re supposed to be in here,” Miguil said. “You’re in charge of us.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” she muttered, her back itching. A boyish scream of pain echoed through the night. Footsteps rustled from the second-floor landing. Jilly with her candlestick stood up there beside Joayne, Bran’s mother. Both women’s faces were ashen.
None of the women or the children up there knew how to fight. Neither did the gardeners or Miguil. They could swing sticks, but they hadn’t been trained. Pharon, on the other hand, held his sword with a sure grip. She didn’t know about the older man’s past, but she felt heartened to have him here.
“Right,” she said. She wasn’t helpless. She had a purpose. Those fighting out there weren’t her sister. They were men trained by Ōbhin risking everything to keep them safe. She’d promised to be the final line.
Elohm, shine your Colours on them all, she prayed as she turned to the door. She activated her binder.
*
Purple flashed to Ōbhin’s left. Aduan’s binder struck Anbrian, wrapping him up in purple energy. Aduan followed up with a brutal punch with his non-dominant hand, knocking the bandit to the ground. He twitched, arms pinned to his side, sword spilled from his grasp.
Heavy footsteps drew Aduan’s attention. Out of the fog, Stone appeared with his maul raised. He should still be bound. Had he broken the energy through brute force? Ōbhin had no idea if Fingers still lived, if he still fought Whiner Creg in the fog. Smiles lay dead against the wall, his head smashed by Ust’s brutal punch.
Aduan turned to face Stone. The former bouncer raised his rod to strike the larger man. The maul hurtled down in a blur and struck Aduan in the side of the head. The wet smack of a melon bursting echoed through the air. The impact bulged the opposite side of Aduan’s face. Skin ripped. Blood flowed. He hit the ground, his head caved in.
“Pus-filled roach!” shouted Cerdyn. He slammed into Stone. The two men fell to the wet grass in a thrash of chainmail.
Ust continued dragging Ōbhin at a leisurely stroll.
Ōbhin snarled his rage as he slid past Aduan’s corpse. Fury thrashed through him. He spasmed and kicked and battled to escape. The tip of his boot slammed into the back of Ust’s hand again and again. He screamed against the pain in his chest and wrist.
Ust looked behind him. “Always unpleasant, isn’t it? Being helpless. Seeing the bastard who so easily beat you standing over you with contempt. Not even bothering to kill you. Because you’re not worth killing. You’re beneath him.”
“You better kill me!” Ōbhin snarled. “By Niszeh’s Black Tone, I’ll ram my hand into your chest and rip out your still-beating heart.”
Ust chuckled. “Like listening to the angry buzz of a grasshopper.”
Cerdyn and Stone thrashed, the two men pummeling each other. From the right, Bran and Dajouth rushed out of the dark. Jamis and Laynet darted to intercept them. Dajouth slowed to a stop and did an expert parry and retort with his binder, the youthful Onderian slamming his rod into Laynet’s left arm. Purple engulfed the bandit, slamming his sword arm into his side. The edge of the blade bit into his own calf. Screaming in pain, he collapsed.
Bran met Jamis. Sparks flared as they traded blows, binder rod striking backsword. Bran saw an opening and
