Dust and Water: A Song For The Stained Novella (A MAGICAL SAGA) Read Online Free PDF

I’m frozen, and the horse beneath me is dancing all wild-animal like. This is insane. I didn’t sign up for this, and I’m not going to get any reward for joining in. The farmers get to keep their farms, their safety, so I understand. But me. What about me?
    Dom screams, hitting the ground hard, his horse running off, and clutching his shoulder. A nearby arrow on the ground paints the rest of the picture for me.
    He’s not even on his feet, slow farm boy. The arrow shooting-bandit comes rushing out to finish him off, and grab his arrow too, considering his quiver is empty.
    I boot the pony, and the little horse almost loses me in its rush to obey. As soon as I’m close enough I boot the bandit in the back of the head. He drops and doesn’t even twitch.
    Dom looks up at me, frowning.
    The words, ‘should have let you die’ are on the tip of my tongue when he smiles.
    “Well, you going to give me a lift on that mule of yours?”
    “It’s not mine,” I mutter. “And it’s better looking than you’ll ever be.”
    In one quick motion, he’s up behind me. Silly, couldn’t get himself off the ground that quickly could he.
    “You swing on the left; I’ll do the right, and don’t cut my leg while you’re at it.”
    What?
    Dung. I’m really going into battle.

Arrow Wound.

    By the time the procession is on its way back to the Meadowsblade’s place, most of the battle stories are in their second telling, and already they’re beginning to warp.
    Dom recovered his horse, so I ride alone at the back of the procession. We survived. But I didn’t find my hoard. Did they burn it?
    I’m glancing over my shoulder towards the pillar of smoke when Dom rides up.
    “Still thinking about that guy you stole an eye from?” Dom asks.
    My stomach turns at the memory of an eyeball on my dagger. I shake my head.
    Ash’s slow pace lines him up with us. “What’s made you two best friends?”
    I shake my head and laugh. “We’re not.”
    I haven’t told anyone the story about Dom being slow-like-an-old-man, not likely to either. Gossip isn’t my thing, and Dom gives me an appreciative glance.
    “What happened to your arm?” Ash asks Dom.
    “Just a nick, the arrow just hit me,” Dom says.
    Ash reaches out. “Does it hurt?”
    “Don’t touch it!”
    Ash chuckles, lifting an eyebrow at me. “Arrow wound, hey? Not a twig from when you fell off your horse?”
    Dom lunges to try and grab Ash but misses and teeters on the edge of slipping out of his saddle.
    “Da, Dom’s forgotten how to ride his horse!” Ash shouts.
    I laugh at them both.
    Dom lowers his stone cold blue eyes on me, it’s his I’m-getting-annoyed look. He signs something at Ash, then they’re both beside me, Ash on the right and Dom on the left. They grab an arm each, lift me from the saddle and start cantering. I’m carried straight over the horse’s neck, and dangling in the air – my legs running of their own accord – we whiz past the other men, everyone laughing.
    “Not funny!”

Burn And Smear.

    The air is electric. You’d think that after a battle everyone would be worn out and off to their own homes, their own beds. Maybe that would be true if we’d had our rears kicked, but we won and there’s so much energy left over.
    “This is where they attacked,” someone says, pointing to the field closest to the Meadowsblades home. It’s still a distance away from the house, and a good thing. That healer would have trouble working his magic with this many men stomping, talking, singing, and jesting, right beside the house.
    “Did the girls who were attacked have something the bandits wanted?”
    “Bandits don’t discriminate,” I say, turning to the speaker.
    I saw him at the battle – one of the first to go in – and I know he’s one of the Meadowsblade boys.
    “Wilf,” he says, holding his hand out.
    I accept the shake, feeling odd having someone’s warm skin touching mine.
    Ash leaps and lands on Wilf’s back, pushing Wilf