Page 89 of Sword of Rage
“Are you injured?”
“No,” she responded. “My ribs are sore from a punch, but I’m fine.”
“I left one alive.” He nodded up the hill to where the man was lying. “Go and grab a bow and arrows. Hide near the top and cover me. I’m heading to the other side of the ravine to see if there are men over there as well.”
She nodded and hurried toward one of the fallen archers.
Ackley retrieved his weapons from the dead soldiers, then ran back toward the horses. If there were additional men out there, they’d probably heard the commotion and would be coming to help. Which meant they’d have to cross the road and enter the forest near the horses.
Assuming there were ten additional men, the easiest thing to do would be to draw them out, exposing them on the road so Gytha could shoot them. He stretched his arms, preparing for hand-to-hand combat.
If the men were organized similarly, there would be five archers and five scouts. He doubted all ten would come at the same time. They’d probably send two first—one archer and one scout.
Ackley spotted the horses, munching on some tall grass about ten feet away from his current location. He rounded the end of the low rise. On the other side of the ravine, two men crouched between the trees, nearing the road. Ackley took a large, jerky step, making sure the men saw him, then he slunk behind a trunk so the archer couldn’t shoot him.
He heard the familiar sound of a hiss as an arrow sailed through the air, followed by what sounded like a man hitting the ground. Ackley peered around the trunk. The archer was sprawled in the middle of the road. Not wanting to run forward and fight the other soldier out in the open, he waited as the other man neared. Once the man was close enough, Ackley reached out, yanking the soldier into the cover of the forest.
Shouts rang out. He knew Gytha would strike any man running across the road. Not having time to spare, he released the man, then plunged his knife into him once. Twice. The man fell to the ground, dead.
Ackley turned to face any men Gytha missed. One soldier was about half-way across the road when an arrow soared through the air, striking the man’s throat. It was a well-placed shot which Ackley admired. That was the third man down. Five men hovered on the other side, afraid to cross and be struck. That meant there were still two men, an archer and a scout, up on top of the ravine, looking down. Ackley would have to lure those men out as well. Although, that could take too long since time was of the essence right now.
There was a quicker—albeit more dangerous—way. He bolted across the road, zig-zagging, then he dove for the closest soldier, tumbling to the ground. Arrows rained down, but all missed him since he hadn’t gone straight across. He rammed his dagger into the soldier’s side while twisting so the man’s body was on top of his, providing protection. He withdrew his dagger then flung it toward the man on his right, striking him. Reaching out with his other hand, he grabbed a man’s ankle, knocking him down.
He flipped the body off him, then kicked, swiping one of the soldier’s legs, knocking him down. The last man standing pointed an arrow right at Ackley. The guy dropped to the ground, an arrow protruding from his back. Even though all five men were on the ground, only three were dead. Ackley grabbed a dagger, embedding it into the soldier on his left. The last one scrambled to his feet.
Ackley almost made a severe tactical error and looked into the man’s eyes. Once again, steeling his resolve, he neared the man. Five foot seven inches, one hundred sixty pounds. He pretended to throw a punch but instead, kicked the guy’s side, knocking him down. He quickly plucked a dagger from one of the fallen bodies and flung it at the man’s neck, striking true.
That left the two on top of the ravine.
Ackley slunk deeper into the forest, hoping the last two soldiers weren’t already tracking him.
A twig snapped. Twisting, he dropped to the ground and threw his knife. An arrow sailed inches above Ackley's head. Ackley’s knife struck the archer’s side, not doing enough damage. The scout ran at him. Out of weapons, he sprang to his feet, wrapping his arms around the man’s torso. He turned, and an arrow embedded into the soldier’s back. Ackley lifted the man and ran at the archer. The archer shot another arrow, striking the soldier a second time. Ackley threw the body at the archer, knocking him down. Without stopping to think, Ackley knelt next to the archer, grabbed his head, and twisted as hard as he could.
He scanned the area, looking for additional threats. Not seeing any, he stood and counted the bodies on the road and lying around him. All ten were accounted for.
He whistled, and Gytha answered with an identical whistle. All clear.
His steady hands started shaking. He balled them into fists, forcing his body to remain calm and in control. Just because this immediate threat was over, didn’t mean he could relax. He had a man to interrogate.
After wiping his hands off on his pants, he began retrieving his weapons. While doing so, he compiled a list of questions to ask the soldier.
Gytha stood on the other side of the ravine. “The man woke up, so I tied him to a tree.” She scanned the road in both directions, her bow nocked and at the ready as if she expected to be ambushed at any moment.
“Twenty men is a lot,” Ackley commented. “If the false king sent them, then he had to know both you and I are trained soldiers.”
“You believe these men are from Melenia’s army?”
“I do.” The side of Gytha’s face was already black and blue. “I want you to stay here. Monitor the road for threats. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
“Only five?”
He gave a grim nod. It was all the time he needed.
Approaching the man, Ackley looked him over. Early twenties, six feet, one hundred fifty pounds. His arms had been tied together behind the trunk, his head resting against it.
“You’re from Melenia’s army,” he said by way of greeting.
The man looked up at Ackley but didn’t respond.
