Nights of Villjamur Read Online Free PDF

shoreline, once-proud sails had become burning rags, propped up by masts that were sinking even as he watched. Three Night Guardsmen floated face-down, their cloaks ballooning with trapped air. Several soldiers were still fighting on the shore. At that moment one of them fell under the incoming arrows. They were fighting in close combat, with dozens of clansmen already dead or dying at their feet.
    More tribesmen kept streaming towards them from beneath the trees, axes in hand. One shambled across his line of vision, his half-severed left arm gripped in his right hand. Blood stained the man's furs, war paint mixed with the sweat streaking down his face. Then an arrow exploded into the back of his head, shattering his skull.
    Attempting to assess the situation, Brynd glanced across to the forest clearing nearest to the ships, where a few horses were still tethered to the trees.
    As he shifted closer to the engagement, an arrow whipped across his face, and it skimmed across the stones to pierce the water. Following its origin, more figures were moving amongst the trees further up the shore, their axes glinting dully within the gloom.
    He heaved an axe from a dead man's head, and shambled through the shadows until he came alongside a tight cluster of four of his men fighting under the remnants of the third and surviving ship. They looked to him when they could, then followed his directions.
    He didn't recognize the attacking tribe's origins, but they fought inefficiently. He cleaved one in the head, then snatched the man's sword from his slackening grip. He pulled the axe free and threw it at another assailant. It wedged into his shoulder, and while the enemy was pinned in agony, Brynd rammed his sword through the front of his ribs. Warm blood poured onto his hands as Brynd tugged to free both weapons.
    By now the remaining tribesmen were looking at him with wary fear - not for his fighting skills, but because of his colour.
    Perhaps they assumed him a ghost.
    Another approached him. Brynd managed to knock away the savage's blade. He made a quick strike which his attacker tried to avoid, the blow splitting his left cheek. The clansman collapsed with a high-pitched scream.
    One of Brynd's soldiers, meanwhile, had his head smashed in with a mace. Another received an arrow through his eye. In his peripheral vision, Brynd could see the gheels had arrived to maul the dead, flensing, then hauling out innards, trails of intestines vividly colourful against the grey stones.
    Everyone suddenly looked up and the scene became inactive.
    A flaming orb ripped through the sky from deep within the forest.
    Crashed into the remaining ship.
    Throwing up great hunks of wood.
    'Fuck!' Brynd yelled. 'Get away from here!'
    The Night Guard retreated quickly up the shore.
    'Head up into the forest!'
    The fire spread rapidly, then another orb landed in the water. Brynd counted the time until the flames reached the cargo.
    A white flash, and he pulled his cloak up to shelter his eyes, falling to the ground as the third ship exploded.
    Noise saturated the air. Debris clattered on the stones around him, raked across the water, rattled the trees.
    Men screamed as they were hit by burning shrapnel.
    'Commander!'
    Brynd stood and pulled back his cloak as he looked up to see who called his name. He shambled up the bank, glancing around wildly, whilst his men fought on.
    'Commander,' the voice beckoned, nearer now - from the darkness of the trees.
    Fyir was lying on the ground, and as Brynd approached he noted he was clutching what was left of his leg. The stump had bloodied rags tied crudely around the end.
    'Sir . . .' Fyir pleaded again, before screaming, tears covering his blackened face.
    Brynd squatted beside him. 'Lie still.'
    He peeled back the rags: Fyir's lower leg must have been destroyed in the explosion. The blond man's ear was also missing, a fragment of skull glistening in its place. 'Don't think about this,' Brynd said. 'Think of something.