5: The Holy Road Read Online Free PDF Page B

droplets of red blood dribbled down his sides and spattered the dry ground. Seeing it, John vividly recalled the open wound in Dayyid’s throat and the flies twitching at its edges. He suddenly felt like he might be sick.
    He closed his eyes, but he couldn’t block out the roar of people all around him shouting and screaming. The blast of rifles cracked through his mind like thunder. All this, John wondered, just for one man? Was this one prisoner so important that he merited so much destruction? Or perhaps his value was simply that someone loved him enough to sacrifice other lives for his.
    How many men would he kill for Ravishan?
    John felt the bound man bump against his leg and he opened his eyes. Lying face down, with his legs and hands trussed together behind him, the man was still trying to move, to escape. He cursed into the dirt and jerked at his bonds. John quickly unbuttoned his coat and unsheathed his curse blade.
    “Hold still while I cut you loose.” John wanted to whisper, but in the surrounding chaos of noise, he had to shout to make sure the man heard him. The man went still. John sliced through the ropes and helped the man sit upright. His face was filthy and unshaven. Blood from a deep gash across his forehead had left the right side of the man’s face streaked with red. Though his chest was scraped and coated with dirt and wood dust, John could still see where the word ‘ traitor ’ had been painted across his skin in black Payshmura script.
    “Here.” John stripped off his coat and wrapped it around the man’s shoulders. He didn’t seem to register the action. Instead, he stared at John as if blinking might get him killed. It was understandable. The man was Fai’daum while John, from all outward appearances, was a Payshmura priest.
    John studied the man. He seemed oddly familiar. Then recognition came to John. It had been years, but John remembered the man’s dark brown eyes, particularly staring at him in fear and confusion.
    “I’m not going to hurt you, Saimura,” John said.
    The man blinked. “How do you know my name?”
    “We’ve met before. I had a beard then and you didn’t.”
    Saimura’s mouth dropped slightly open. “It’s you…from the woods.”
    John nodded.
    “Why are you here?” Saimura asked. He seemed dazed.
    “It’s just my lucky day. I’ve been showing up at all the right places at the best times.” John glanced guiltily down at his hands, still coated in blood. “Put on my coat. If you’re dressed, you won’t be so easy for the guards to pick out in the crowd.”
    Saimura got the coat on in quick, jerky motions. John heard a loud knock and crack as an arrow punched into the side of the wrecked wagon. Farther away, the report of a rifle cracked the air.
    “Who are you?” Saimura asked. His voice was rough and hard to hear over the noise surrounding them. Very distantly John thought he could hear the city bells ringing out an alarm.
    “I’m called Jahn.” John peered between the cracked planks. Waves of people crashed up against the city gate. Others huddled in clusters behind broken stalls or carts. The guards up on the wall released a volley of arrows at anyone moving in the open. In the cacophony of threats, pleas, screams, and shouting, John thought he could hear a soft gasp and weeping.
    There was a movement low to the ground, close to the wagon. Someone crawled toward them for cover. It was the woman who had tried to rein the tahldi. She moved slowly, dragging herself across the ground. John was amazed to see that she was still alive. Her black hair was gray with dirt. The thick leather of her clothes was tattered and ripped. An arrow struck the ground a few feet from her.
    “What is it?” Saimura asked.
    “A woman.” John crept to the edge of the wagon. “I think I can get her back here.”
    “Be careful. The Payshmura are gathering on the wall.” Saimura had taken John’s place, spying out through the cracked planks. “They come out of