Iron and Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

anything over the pounding in his ears and the white hot pain in his face. He felt Jaevis plant a knee on his breastbone, pinning him in place, and then Tyvian’s world exploded again as the bounty hunter began to pound his head with his fists as though it were a lump of dough on a baker’s counter. Dimly, Tyvian could hear the Illini muttering a single word, over and over: “Vendetta.”
    After the third punch in the face, Tyvian managed to pull his knee to his chest and draw the dagger from his boot. Jaevis was so focused on pounding Tyvian’s head flat as a coin that he very nearly didn’t notice the flash of steel until it was too late. As it was, the Illini twisted at the last moment so the point of the dagger pierced his arm rather than his heart. Jaevis snarled with a mixture of rage and pain, clutching at the deep wound with his free hand and leaping up before Tyvian could stick him again.
    Unpinned, Tyvian rolled away and into the street, which was really more stairs than street, and bounced down several icy stone steps before he managed to stop himself. Jaevis charged after him, his arm pumping blood but his mind apparently too filled with anger to care. Tyvian tried to rise with the aid of a lamppost, but the bounty hunter kicked him in the chest and sent him sprawling onto his back and tumbling down another half-­dozen unforgiving steps. Air wheezing into his lungs, blood dripping into his mouth, Tyvian pointed his dagger at Jaevis to keep himself from being tackled again.
    He didn’t kill me—­he needs me alive.
    Jaevis drew one of his long, curved sabers with his good arm and adjusted his cloak. “Not so full of jokes now, eh?”
    Tyvian, trying not to fall down any more stairs, scuttled away from him until he had room to pull himself into a crouch. “You’re early, Jaevis.”
    The bounty hunter advanced slowly, leaving drops of blood in his wake. “You were not expecting Jaevis. Jaevis was expecting you.”
    Tyvian retreated, wracking his brain for a plan. “Must we debate semantics? I mean, let’s be honest, you barely speak Trade. Shouldn’t you just defer to me in linguistic matters?”
    Jaevis grunted. “Still with jokes. I will cut out tongue, Reldamar.”
    Dagger against saber was no contest, even if Jaevis was short an arm. Tyvian had stabbed him deep, but the wound wasn’t fatal. Thanks to the studded leathers Jaevis wore on his torso, the odds of getting a fatal blow in there were extremely slim. There was only one way out of this.
    â€œWell, good-­bye, then!”
    Tyvian turned tail and ran.
    Jaevis roared and pursued.
    The bounty hunter was swift, and Tyvian had just gotten his face pounded in for a few moments, so his balance wasn’t perfect; his flight was more of a controlled fall down the steep, stair-­lined street. There was little doubt in his mind that he would be caught in a matter of seconds. Fortunately, a matter of seconds was all he needed.
    Tyvian made a sharp right turn and ran, full bore, into the arms of two of Hendrieux’s men. He made a show of struggling, but in all honesty he could not have been happier to see them. They had just come from the Hanim’s party, as Tyvian had anticipated, and their group included eight soldiers in livery, as before, as well as the hulking Gallo, the fur-­caped Hendrieux, and two men in rust-­red robes and hoods. Artificers, I presume. Tyvian tried not to smile.
    â€œLook what we ’ave ’ere!” One of the Dellorans held a tiny bead of illumite close to Tyvian’s face. In the pale light, Tyvian could see the man had a black eye—­great, it was the guard from the party. “It’s Tyvian bleedin’ Reldamar, and he’s got his fine clothes all mussed.”
    Tyvian nodded. “Well identified, sir—­and with only one eye, too! Hendrieux should give you a raise.”
    The man kneed Tyvian in the