Tracy Falbe The Rys Chronicles 1 Union of Renegades

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Reeling with shame and hatred, Dreibrand staggered into the night. He hated
Sandin so much, and he was ashamed that he had finally allowed his rival to
force him into a disastrous outburst. The shame of acting so horribly in front
of Lord Kwan sickened Dreibrand. His stupidity at challenging Sandin on the
eve of a battle overwhelmed him. After breaking such an important taboo,
Dreibrand was certain he could never convince
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Lord Kwan to include him on the expeditionary force.
If only I had waited until tomorrow to challenge, he lamented. A
challenge on the day of battle would not have broken the taboo, and Lord
Kwan might have agreed.
The magnitude of his blunder crushed his heart and mind, and
Dreibrand gave in to his anger. Lord Kwan was one of the few people in the
ruling class who would give him a chance, and he had completely ruined it. Now
he would have to beg to keep his commission. Without his military career he
was nothing.
Literally moaning with misery, Dreibrand clutched his head as
irrational fury seized his mind. He pulled his sword out and charged his own
camp. A fire still burned in front of his tent, and Dreibrand attacked it. The
sword slashed through the coals, sending the cooking rack flying in a shower
of sparks. Starfield neighed in alarm and pulled at his tether. His squire
spun out of his bedroll as if every enemy the Atrophane had ever faced had
come back for revenge.
The young man bounded to his feet and watched in terror as his master hacked
the campfire into glowing piles.
May the Gods curse Sandin as they have cursed me! Dreibrand cried.
With the fire obliterated Dreibrand turned his eyes upon his shield leaning
against his other gear. This became the next target of his rage. His sword
beat against the polished metal that could not dodge the wild assault.
I am going to kill that bastard, he shouted several times.
Assuming he was the intended victim, the squire tried to slip away, but
Dreibrand somehow noticed him despite his deranged state.
Where s my helmet? he demanded.
The squire froze as if skewered by the question. Dreibrand made an awful sight
in the diminished glow of the scattered coals. His shoulders heaved from
ragged breathing and violent emotion fueled the gleam in his eyes.
Sir, don t kill me, the squire squeaked.
Not you! But it is time I started killing the right people around here,
Dreibrand shouted as he scanned his gear.
The commotion attracted a few soldiers from the surrounding encampment. They
rushed up, thinking their officer had been attacked.
Dreibrand turned to face the soldiers and his unhinged expression made them
halt.
Dreibrand laughed at them. He wished he could give them some reward for their
loyalty, but now he had disgraced them all.
Get out of here! Don t waste your time on me. I sully the Empire! He was
ranting now and waving his sword. He tore off his cape and threw it as his
men.
Forgetting the soldiers, Dreibrand turned back to his squire. Did you
find it? he barked.
The squire had not moved at all, and he regretted not fleeing while
Dreibrand yelled at the soldiers. The young man cast his eyes over the strewn
gear, but he was too flustered to focus on any objects in the twitching light.
Ah, it should be here, he mumbled and tried to perform his function.
Gesturing wildly with his sword, Dreibrand said, Forget the helmet. I
only need my sword to kill Sandin. His eyes latched onto the flashing steel
with affection.
The squire dodged the swinging sword. He really meant to flee right then, but
he could not ignore Dreibrand s last statement.
Sandin? Sir, you cannot kill him, he cried in genuine panic.
I should have done this two years ago, Dreibrand snarled with deepening
conviction.
Sir, no.
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Dreibrand turned away, clearly intending to attack his rival that very minute.
Desperately the squire grabbed Dreibrand s arm.
Sir, Lord Kwan will execute you, he warned.
Dreibrand blocked out this consequence and shoved his servant away, but the
squire held on. Sir, no. They ll kill me too, he pleaded.
This got through to Dreibrand, who accepted that he was about to commit a
crime against his own people. He had no authorization for a duel, and if he
were successful, it would be murder.
Everyone will try and stop you. You might not even reach Sandin,
reasoned the squire, who searched for rationality in his master s eyes.
But the very mention of Sandin s name seemed to incense Dreibrand all over
again, and he gnashed his teeth with frustration that needed to be vented.
Dreibrand knew he could not just sit in his tent while Sandin was so close by.
Saddle my horse, he commanded.
Where are you going? the squire asked suspiciously.
Saddle my horse! Dreibrand hollered and swiped at his tent with his
sword. The blade snapped through two tent ropes, and half the shelter
collapsed.
Giving up protest and hoping for the best, the squire jumped to comply.
Starfield snorted as the servant hastily bridled the spirited warhorse.
Tonight the squire was the definition of efficiency. The sooner he had that
horse saddled the sooner his master would be gone.
Gods, spare me the blame, he pleaded. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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