Harvest of Gold Read Online Free PDF

for a long, skinny stick which one of them held casually in one hand. He used the moments he had before they reached him to try to cut one of his men, Sama, loose from his bonds. He had time to cut the ties about Sama’s wrists and grab a shield before his two opponents were almost upon him.
    Darius turned, taking note of small details that might give him an advantage in the unequal fight. In a corner of his mind he became aware that the grass felt cool and damp beneath his bare feet and the air crisp in his chest. To his astonishment, he saw that only one man approached him, his gait slow. The pale light of the fire could not hide the fact that even though he was of slim build—shorter and thinner than Darius—his compact body displayed an impressive array of hard muscles. The man’s companion held back, in no haste to come to his aid. They certainly did not seem to expect much trouble from their prey, Darius thought.
    Unsure of how the man intended to use such a thin reed of a staff in a fight, Darius flexed his sharp knife in one hand, considering. He stepped forward into a well-practiced stance, and put his weight behind the knife as he lunged at the man. To his surprise the man did not veer either to left or right, but in the last moment, stretched out an arm, and with what felt like a soft touch, pushed against Darius’s wrist in an arc. Darius found his knife hand travelling wide off the mark, his own strength being used against him.
    He regained his balance and turned to face his opponent again. The white staff suddenly whirled in the air, sounding more like a whip than a wooden stick. Darius pulled his shield in front of his face just in time to catch its downward strike. Amazingly, the wood did not splinter as it came into contact with Darius’s thick wicker-and-leather shield. Instead, it bent and found its way around the shield, whipping the side of Darius’s face with a painful strike. He put a hand to his stinging face; it came away bloody. He had never experienced anything like it in battle before.
    Darius gripped his knife harder. The man had taken a strange pose, his knees bent, one arm forward, his palm flat, the other fisted around the staff and pulled back. Darius rushed at him, intending to use the weight of his core body to wrestle the man to the ground. Before he had the opportunity, however, his opponent uncoiled with tremendous speed and brought down the edge of his hand diagonally against the side of Darius’s neck. The blow bore down on Darius with the force of metal instead of mere flesh and blood. He knew he would have lost consciousness if his neck muscles were not so strong. Darius resisted the dizziness that enveloped him, swallowing hard to overcome the urge to vomit.
    With a growl, he threw aside the shield and rushed at his attacker, hoping to surprise him with an unexpected counterattack. The man grabbed Darius just above the elbow and pressed. It was as if a string had been pulled from his elbow all the way down into his fingers; Darius lost his grasp on the knife, his fingers nerveless.
    He managed to break contact and took up a defensive stance, but realized that he was losing control of the fight. It was clear that his opponent was proficient in a form of combat hitherto unknown to Darius. With sudden speed, the man rushed toward him and flew high in the air as if he had grown a set of wings, landing a forceful kick straight into Darius’s solar plexus. It felt like being hit by a tree trunk. Darius collapsed, unable to breathe.
    Time slowed. As the world came to a standstill, he remained aware that everything was happening much faster than it seemed. From the side of his eye he saw his opponent’s companion standing to the side, his arms crossed, a relaxed grin on his face as he watched, secure in the knowledge of his opponent’s extraordinary ability in battle. Without warning, the man’s grin wavered and his eyes rolled back before he slid to the ground with a noisy crash.