Dawn of War Read Online Free PDF Page B

bloodstained streets.
    At last he made it to the small hut he and his father shared, the cluster of homes surrounding it still intact. The fires had yet to reach so far. It wouldn’t be long though. He could smell the smoke as it wafted in black clouds over the village. The repulsive scent of burnt meat clung to it. The realization of what it was made him sick.
    As his father threw open the door, Cael crumpled to his knees. The revolt of his stomach spewed out in yellowed streams onto the dirt in front of him, its stench nothing compared to what lingered in the air.
    His father rushed to his side and yanked him to his feet, his iron grip a vice around his pained bicep. Cael grunted as he was led around the rear of his home and toward the far fields that had yet to be mowed down by the Korme. His legs felt as though they were disconnected from his hips. He stumbled, having trouble keeping his feet beneath him. His breath was ragged in his lungs.
    “Come on, boy. We need to move,” his dad told him, the words tinted with fear and fury.
    At hearing the strange tremble in his father’s voice, he glanced over and noticed the wood axe he carried for the first time. Its blade dull from daily use, it seemed a poor defense against an army. He felt his skin grow cold at the thought, the horrible realization that the axe resting on his father’s shoulder was the only thing standing between them and a brutal death at the hands of the Korme.
    His eyes welled up and a sob slipped loose before he could contain it with his free hand.
    “There’s no time for that, son,” His father chided in a rough voice, though the dark creases of his weathered face showed only compassion. “We have to reach the north vineyard before the soldiers encircle the town. Be strong and hold your tears until then.” He gave a quick squeeze of Cael’s arm.
    Cael nodded weak and wiped away the snot that clung to his nose and lips. He slipped his arm loose of his father’s grip and met his pace. His chest ached from his panicked breath, but he stayed close; the axe and the company of his father far better than being alone.
    He heard the clopping slap of hooves and pressed himself flat against the wall. His dad tossed a small bag to him and hunched low as the horse grew closer, holding the axe ready before him. Cael barely caught the bag, his hands shaking. He clutched it tight to his chest as a horse’s head appeared from around the corner.
    His father waited just an instant longer, then swung the axe toward the galloping rider. Its blurred head just cleared the horse’s bouncing mane and sunk to the haft into the soldier’s stomach.
    His father stumbled sideways from the impact, the axe torn from his hands. He hit the ground with a grunt and rolled twice before coming to a stop and climbing to his knees, seeming unharmed. The soldier wasn’t so fortunate.
    The axe blade buried in his gut, the Korme fell from his mount as the horse continued its forward gallop. He landed hard on his back, the axe handle bouncing. The soldier screamed and blood gushed from the wound. It spilled down his sides in thick, bubbling rivulets, pouring over his hands as he clutched to the blade trying to pull it free of his flesh.
    Cael’s father got to his feet and grabbed the soldier’s sword from where it lay in the dirt. If the Korme noticed, he made no sign. He kicked and strained, the axe too firmly embedded in his innards to budge.
    A quick slash laid his throat open and his screams became a wet gurgle that faded fast. His dark eyes rolled back to white and he went limp, falling back into the puddle of crimson that grew beneath him.
    Cael looked away to keep from vomiting again. After a moment, his father grabbed him once more and dragged him toward the vineyard. He circled around to keep the dead soldier out of sight. Once they turned the corner, his dad released him and slowed long enough to strap on the shield he’d taken from the Korme. Cael felt a surge of hope