Ravenwood Excerpt
“Step in and close the door,” said the stranger.
Behind Arius loomed the open yard. A sprint back to the lodge, and a rapid return with his sword—and his companions—would be sensible. But a lot of damage could be wrought in mere moments. And there’d be more than moments for this brute to sow destruction: he’d most likely barricade the back door. He’d done a thorough job with the front one.
Arius walked forward, eyes fixed on the brigand. He did not close the door.
“The door, stupid! And fix the latch,” growled the giant, his blade levelled at Arius from an enormous fist with whitened knuckles.
Arius stared at him, weighing the options. There weren’t many. Securing the back door from inside would rule out an already slim one completely: the one where his companions turn up, having decided to follow Arius over from the lodge.
Just when it seemed the invader would throw himself upon the young man in blade-flailing, affronted fury at his slow response, Arius half turned and reached back to close the door. He managed to set the latch pin with the barest of glances. Last thing needed at a time like this was attention in the wrong place.
“Get over there. I’ll deal with you soon enough,” said the swordsman. He kept the blade raised, eyeing Arius down its gleaming length. He pointed with his free hand, to where two locals, Harris and Edric, stood by the wall, pale and hunched like condemned men awaiting their rope collars on the gallows.
Arius glanced at the two young men as he moved to stand by the wall. They kept their heads down at first, but as he drew nearer Edric looked up momentarily and their eyes met. The lad’s were blue, but apprehension chased any shine of greeting from them. Arius turned up a corner of his mouth, trying a gentle half-smile of reassurance. The young man showed no response and looked down at his boots again.
Arius was almost back where he had been earlier that evening. The fireplace he’d sat near with Meka and Tobias was just the other side of Harris and Edric. The bucket of fireplace tools had been mildly useful earlier. He’d idly turned over charred wood with the long, heavy iron poker, teasing more flame from the grates’ dwindling fire with it when Joff had overlooked replenishing the logs. Not that he had felt cold. He just preferred the bright flames to the ash. Now, the little armoury of black-painted iron was much more interesting. But he hadn’t worked out what to do, nor how to do it.
Then, the negligible time Arius had was reduced to none.
The Agyran fighter was moving again, and in three strides was looming over Joff. He stretched out a hand, grabbing hold of him by the collar, dragging the hapless barkeep away from the counter. When Joff tried to resist, a great hammer of a fist struck him in the face. At least the blow was not with the sword gripped in the fist. It was more than adequate. Any fight he had drained out of Joff then, and he gave in to the fearsome strength over him. He bowed his head forward as he sat in a crumpled heap on the smooth-worn floorboards of his inn. He awaited the blades’ blow, the only hope left to him that it would be quick and final.
“Blood for blood,” breathed the giant. “I’ll make a start with this lump, but it’s going to take plenty of you farmyard rats for two good men. For my friends!”
Thwack!
The brigand snapped his head around at the ear-splitting sound, to see Arius standing behind a small table that rocked and then tipped sideways to fall with a clatter. He held a long black rod of iron in his hand, its mottled tip pointed and forged with a heavy barb.
The brigand froze, looking for a moment like some huge decorative relief, carved in stone. The sort found in temples or kingly halls, celebrating the might of gods or warriors from ages past, sword held, the vanquished at his feet… except his mouth gaped slackly.
Arius did not want to announce his intentions, but the innkeeper would have been dead by the time he could have gotten closer. He barely had time to snatch up the fire poker. His strike of the table came whilst the brigand’s sword was over Joff and ready to fall.
The Agyran was not fixed in motionless surprise for long. Only a blink, and he lunged toward Arius, who was already moving. Arius snatched up the small table he’d knocked over by its single central leg-post in his left hand as he came forward. It didn’t feel very solid, and the wood creaked, as if making protest at its new role as a makeshift shield. Arius met the man’s charge.