Page 69 of Tusks & Saddles
The term was only partially familiar to Beatrix. She had witnessed a banishment a few years ago—a messy encounter that had happened to the north of Ordia in the cold mountains. A gnome had cast a spell on a giant that had cut the air with a loud crack and in a flash of brilliant light, the giant had disappeared. As if he had never attacked their campsite during the night.
“Good boy, Welborn,” Beatrix praised. “Now we just have to focus on getting to the water tower now that they’re gone!”
“Oh, well, about that…”
Beatrix didn’t like the tone of his voice.
“Yes?”
“Well, the thing is I’ve never cast that spell before and I’m not entirely sure if I can do it again—”
“For the love of—”
“—I was only able to banish one of them!” he exclaimed. “There are still the five to deal with!”
“Welborn!” Beatrix exclaimed in frustration.
Five was better than six, but that didn’t change the fact that there were still Sand Slithers chasing them! The horse wasn’t meant to keep up the pace it was with two riders, not to mention their combined packs.
Adapt. There will be a time where no one will come to save you, my darling. Adapt to the danger and fight with everything you have!
The echo of her father’s words rung in her ears, steeling Beatrix’s resolve. She would have to be quick and make every second count.
“Take the reins and don’t question me,” she barked.
Following her instructions, Welborn leaned forward. Once he had a firm grasp, arms encircling either side of her body, Beatrix twisted. She grabbed the front of his robes for support, lifted one leg up and settled into a side saddle position. Welborn’s breath brushed against the veil near her cheek, but Beatrix had other matters to deal with. Her sharp eyes spotted three dust trails but the other two were obscured by the cleric’s body.
Beatrix shifted her hips, bringing her other leg up and over until both of her legs were straddling Welborn’s. He gasped at themovement, twitching under the weight of her thighs as Beatrix was practically in his lap. She would curse herself for the awkward position later—if there was a later. Right then, Beatrix had only one goal in sight.
From her vantage point, Beatrix could see all five of the dust trails and subsequent disturbed earth as they rode. With a quick flick of her fingers,Bad Companyfound it’s way into her hand. The familiar weight didn’t calm her rattling heart so much as give her the confidence to handle the current situation.
Now, it depended onthem.
The Sand Slithers needed to breach the surface of the earth. Despite how powerful a weapon it was,Bad Companycould not penetrate dirt the same way it did the air. Beatrix needed to wait, needed to let Welborn stumble his way through guiding the horse. They needed to create an opportunity for the Sand Slithers to strike and hope that Beatrix was faster than they were.
Sure enough, the labored breath of the horse was growing more frequent, and the slithers were quickly approaching.
Come on…Beatrix thought, arm raised and finger steady on the trigger.Come on, you worm bastards. Come on—there!
The surface broke and a sand slither hurled itself straight at their backside. Beatrix aimedBad Companyand took the shot. The bullet managed to pierce through the hard exterior, catching between it’s armored hide and one of the many spikes. The shriek it let out was wet as it fell back onto the ground. Whether it was fatally injured or just mortally stunned, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that it wasn’t pursuing them any longer.
However, there were still the remaining four to contend with. One of which tore through the dirt and into the air on their left.Beatrix had barely caught the sound of its cry in time. Drawing her firearm in its direction, she squeezed the trigger, and this time her aim was true. The crack of the gun going off was accompanied by the wet plop of the sand slither falling to the ground. The bullet Beatrix had let off in its open mouth had done the trick.
Three down, three to go.
Chapter Seventeen
Welborn
There was a woman in his lap.
There was a woman he had known for only three days straddling his lap in what was probably one of the most terrifying moments of Welborn’s short life. While he had never entertained the idea of holding a woman, his body apparently couldn’t tell that it wasnotthe appropriate moment for any of these…reactions.
Every time Miss Eaves pressed against his chest, gun arm raised over his shoulder, Welborn did his best not to flinch. Not just from the crack of shots echoing behind his ears, but from the press of her curves. Somehow, even in the face of such dire circumstances, his body was more than eager to remind him that he wasveryattracted to Miss Eaves.
I doubt she’d appreciate me telling her to stop wiggling,he thought.
What an awful time to get…excited.
