Jamis’s blade punched hard into Bran’s chest. The chainmail jangled. Loops snapped. The blow drove the slipping Bran onto his back. He gasped as Jamis bore down on the blade, twisting the slender tip. The hardened steel point chiseled at the chainmail. Another link popped. The blade shifted a half-inch.
Bran screamed in boyish pain, blood welling up around the sword.
Ōbhin thrashed, reaching, helpless to defend the youth. Jamis’s shoulders twisted. His feet spread wide as he pressed down on the sword with his weight, struggling to cut through the last few links and drive the entire length of his blade home into Bran.
Dajouth appeared, holding Laynet’s backsword. A hard swipe took Jamis in the neck. The blade caught on the bandit’s spine. Blood spurted. Jamis gurgled and stumbled to the side. He landed twitching beside Bran.
“Bran!” Dajouth shouted, kneeling down and wrenching Jamis’s sword from Bran’s belly. Dark blood stained the last two fingers’ width of the blade. Not deep. Not fatal. Yet.
A loud bellow shouted through the night then a gurgling sigh. Stone spasmed beneath Cerdyn. The hulking guard snarled as he rose, ripping a sword out of Stone’s throat, blood spilling over the strongman’s gullet. Stone drowned in his blood. Ōbhin recognized the weapon’s clover crossguard. Anbrian’s blade. Cerdyn whirled, his eyes locked on Ust.
He charged, blade raised to deliver a hacking blow. Chainmail jangling and boots thudding gave warning. Ust whirled, sliding Ōbhin across the grass. Cerdyn gasped in shock as Ust grabbed the descending blade in his left hand.
“What?” gaped Cerdyn. At that speed of the blow and with Cerdyn’s strength, it should have cut through Ust’s hand. Blood boiled out of his clenched fist and spilled down his wrist.
Between Ust’s legs, orange glowed beneath his skin. He jerked hard and wrenched the blade from Cerdyn’s grip. Ust chuckled as he turned the sword in his hand, holding the blade still. With a blur of motion, he slammed the crossguard into Cerdyn’s head.
Blood spurted from the deep indent furrowed in Cerdyn’s brow. The hilt scraped away skin and muscle away to reveal the white, dented skull beneath. His eyes rolled back. He dropped limp to the ground. Ust laughed louder and dropped the sword at his feet.
He marched on to the manor house, dragging Ōbhin with him. The Qothian stared at that discarded sword coming closer and closer with Ust’s every step. He snagged it up with his left hand and stabbed it at Ust’s wrist again.
Ust didn’t react in time. Ōbhin hadn’t wasted this opportunity like he had by hacking Hook’s legs. The chiseled tip of Anbrian’s sword struck Ust’s inner wrist. It cut through the skin and into the tendons beneath.
Ust snarled as his fingers went limp, releasing Ōbhin’s ankle. He rolled away and gained his feet as the naked monster spun around. Orange glowed through Ust’s crotch, illuminating his flesh from the inside. His limp fingers flexed as the sword wound regenerated.
Ōbhin held the backsword in his left hand. He had trained to fight with both hands but preferred his right. He wasn’t as good with his left, but what choice did he have? He faced Ust, every breath grinding pain. He had to figure out a way to harm him.
Dajouth appeared from the right, holding the blade that had stabbed Bran. The youth still sobbed on the ground, clutching his belly. Footsteps thudded behind Ōbhin. Chainmail rattled. To Ōbhin’s amazement, Smiles appeared. He held a sword instead of a binder. He slowed as he reached Ōbhin, facing Ust.
The bandit leader snorted in amusement.
Smiles had a grim look on his face. He must have seen his friend Aduan’s corpse. Ōbhin had questions for Smiles. He could have sworn Ust’s fist had cracked open the man’s head, but the Qothian saw no injury. No blood or swollen forehead.
Did he hit lower? Ōbhin wondered. He pushed those thoughts away. He had to focus.
“What are we doing?” Smiles snarled, anger burning in his eyes. “How are we killing this Black-pitted bastard?”
Ust turned his back on them and continued his march towards the manor house. Dajouth gave a shout and lunged, sword stabbing. Ust backhanded the thrust to the side and then kicked out with his foot. Bone snapped. The young man’s knee bent the wrong way. Dajouth collapsed in a gasp of pain.
“You can’t do anything to hurt me,” Ust said.
Smiles and Ōbhin both rushed in. A blurring fist punched at them. Smiles dove to the ground. Ōbhin slashed his blade and struck the incoming blow. He blunted the attack. He stumbled back from the force, a line of blood spurting from where his blade bit into the hulk’s knuckles. Ust’s flesh healed, leaving behind only a crimson streak. Ōbhin panted, his entire body aching.
The manor house appeared as the fog eddied. Ust was almost there.
Desperation filled Ōbhin. He needed something. Anything. How could he hurt a bastard who healed instantly and possessed the strength of a dozen men? He threw a look over his shoulder. He could hear his resonance blade buzzing. He wanted to go get it. Was there time? It lay back across the entire yard. Ust would be in the house in moments.
The humming grew louder and louder.
A figure lumbered out of the fog, panting and holding Ōbhin’s tulwar.
“Got that skinny one bound up,” Fingers panted as he lurched to a stop. “He don’t have the strength to break free like that big bastard.” He held out the weapon to Ōbhin. “You dropped this.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ōbhin’s left hand tightened about his resonance blade, the hum familiar. He felt heartened. He had a weapon he could use. If he could find a way past Ust’s shield, if he could
