Plow and Sword Read Online Free PDF Page B

Suvarian prepared for another attack.
    “I have wasted enough time. Leave or die!”
    “How many of your men have I killed already? I lost count. A battle scribe will be needed for the tally if you refuse to leave now.”
    “You? You, a farmer?” Suvarian barked the words, but a hint of uncertainty came and he looked over at his guardsmen. He boasted for them—and to bolster his own courage. The failed first attack had obviously unsettled him. “Give this whelp a sword. I would fight him.”
    “After I kill you,” Rorr asked, “your men will depart?”
    Suvarian laughed. It carried a hint of madness in it.
    “You cannot slay an armored knight. I am lord of these lands and a master swordsman!”
    A rider came up with a sheathed sword. He threw it to the ground beside Rorr.
    “Then your death will be mourned near and far.” Rorr kicked the sword aside without looking at it. “I prefer to use my own.”
    He lifted the sword from where he had held it at his side. Sunlight glinted off the intricate hilt, the fine etching on the blade, the wicked, slightly curved tip and the edge so sharp that it cut through the air without even the softest whisper.
    The soldier who had dropped the sheathed sword moved away a few yards. He called to the others, “He has an Aldori dueling sword!”
    This caused momentary furor among the men.
    “Where did you find the sword, farmer?” Suvarian called. “You can hurt yourself with such fine steel.”
    “I never so much as nicked myself through three border wars.” Rorr lifted the sword to display the intricately decorated boss at the end of the hilt.
    “A swordlord’s seal. Where did you steal that, plowboy?” Suvarian sounded less sure of himself.
    “It has been my soul and companion for four years.”
    The lord’s face drained of blood. “You are a thief and a liar!”
    “I challenge you, Suvarian. Fight or leave my land now!”
    The soldiers murmured when their lord did not instantly move to slay the impudent peasant.
    “You,” Lord Suvarian called to them. “Yorrial, Juston, Jerra—kill him! Fight him!”
    “I challenged you, Suvarian.”
    “All of you, attack! Kill him!” Suvarian tried to force his horse to back away, but the animal balked.
    His warriors milled about until one finally let out a battle cry and galloped forward. Rorr looked from Suvarian to the attacking soldier. He took a quick double step to the side, ducked, threw up his buckler to deflect the slash, and straightened his bowed legs. His sword tip found the spot at the vulnerable bottom of the rider’s armor. Rorr felt first resistance, then none, then resistance again as the blade drove through internal organs. As the rider toppled, Rorr yanked back his blade. He held it high, letting the dead soldier’s blood run down the small channels on the Aldori sword so the others could see.
    A second warrior started an attack, then veered away.
    Rorr turned his back on the tiny knot of fighters and faced Suvarian. The man fought to control his horse. Rorr walked forward, tongue clacking at a pace and frequency to unsettle the horse further. It had worked before during many battles where he had faced impossible odds. It worked again.
    The horse reared and tossed Suvarian to the ground. The lord landed hard on his back and struggled to sit up. His armor wasn’t full plate, but the pretender found it too heavy to move.
    Rorr stopped a pace away, eyeing the fallen lord. Suvarian screeched like an owl as Rorr slashed. The shriek turned to a blubbering sob as Suvarian realized the cuts had done nothing but sever the leather straps holding his armor.
    “Stand and fight,” Rorr said coldly. “If you don’t, I’ll kill you like a rabid dog.”
    Suvarian rolled from side to side, then shucked off the armor like a snake molting its skin. He struggled to hands and knees, then forced himself to stand. He clutched his sword in a clumsy double-handed grip.
    “I’ll cut out your eyes and feed them to crows,”