Brave Men Die: Part 2 Read Online Free PDF Page A

position to deal with the raiders and can move across the country to aid any fighting. The Ninth, Tenth, Eleventh, Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth can be held in reserve until we know where they need to be deployed. Is there anything else gentlemen?’ the Prince asked.
    ‘Sir …’ Braithe started.
    ‘We want a unit of magi, Reza,’ Dejeski finished. ‘We want one for each of us. They are the Kingdom’s most powerful weapon, they travel faster than any artillery and they won’t look out of place in a simple "training exercise".’
    ‘You want me to ask the Academy or you want me to order them?’
    ‘Whatever is necessary. If we are at war they will be drawn into the conflict eventually. We would prefer it from the start.’
    Knight-General Curdish stood exhausted with his back against the wall. Dark, long curls clung to his forehead as his gauntleted fingers gripped his helmet loosely in his left hand. His sword was covered with the raiders’ blood. He looked around the room over the faces of the men he was in charge of. Cuts and scratches were the worst the men inside had got. Others had not been so lucky.
    Between Prince Daymon and himself, the plan had seemed so simple. Wait in the houses at night for the raiders to come, ambush them when they thought they were just attacking the people, light the signal fire, and the Horse would come charging and kill everyone on the street.
    The fighting had been bloody and brutal. In close quarters every detail of the enemies’ faces could be seen and the look of death in their eyes haunted him momentarily when he closed his eyelids. The ambush had worked, sort of. The lads had kept the raiders from the houses, kept them on the streets long enough for the cavalry charge that thundered down every dirt covered street. With nowhere safe to flee, their long boats ablaze, they had fought to the last man, stood together as the horses came, battered harder to get inside the buildings. They had managed that on the other side of the street, getting past the first Murukan at the door to trample over his body and engage those within.
    The candlelight cast shadows along the walls as Curdish’s eyes swept over the man now covering the closed door. Others stood to either side of the window while the rest remained well back ready to charge.
    The sound of hooves roaring past the door gave light to thoughts that it was finished but the Horse was met by shouts and battle cries and the familiar sound of ringing steel. It wasn’t over yet.
    Minutes felt like hours before the heavy breathing of armoured mounts stopped outside the building and the rapping on the door echoed into his ears a familiar pattern.
    ‘Open the door,’ Curdish ordered the two men stationed in front of it.
    A tall figure emerged into the candlelight, his dark curls falling down the sides of his head as he removed his helmet. Broad shoulders strained to squeeze past the soldiers, a second smaller man following him in. The taller handed his helmet to the other and his eyes locked with Curdish’s.
    ‘I think this will keep them away from the coast for a while Curdish.’
    ‘Good, because we have other places to be Daymon.’
    ‘I’m more than aware of that. We had to do this first, before we can run off to the other side of the country. The raiders needed a deterrent and after tonight we have bloody well given them one.’
    Blood trickled down out of his sleeve from a cut that Curdish suspected sat high across his bicep. His brown eyes were alert as he studied the room. Running his hand through his dark hair, the uncrowned young King shook his head.
    ‘How long before we can be of use?’
    ‘That depends on a lot of things. We are down pretty far south, Firadon’s border is barely two days away. By the time we get organised, prepare food and water to accompany the Horse …’ Curdish sighed.
    Daymon looked at him expectantly.
    ‘The best we could do is maybe a month, if we kill the horses and the men in the