Red Sky at Dawn Read Online Free PDF Page B

strap that bound his wrists to the wagon, and he could free himself from it in less than thirty heartbeats without attracting attention. When the time was right, he would take his chances and run for one of the fortresses, and by all that was just in the civilized world, he would avenge his failure and strike down the phantom.
    ***
    Two days after Roskin’s dream of Dorkhun, he and nine others, including Molgheon and Vishghu, slunk through the tall savannah grass on the edge of a massive cotton plantation. Molgheon had already scouted the area and, as Crushaw had predicted, found only a handful of soldiers guarding the big house. With Crushaw still hobbled, she took charge of the raid and developed the strategy for seizing control.
    She would lead four other archers to the western side of the house to cover the five who would strike from the northern side. Leinjar, a veteran Tredjard who had been captive with Roskin at the Slithsythe, would lead the strike team. Under cover of darkness, they would position themselves outside the big house and attack just as the sleepy orcs exited the modest barracks. Molgheon’s archers would take down any overseers or lowly orcs or even slaves that tried to assist the soldiers. With any luck, the entire plantation would be taken in a matter of minutes.
    From the tall grasses, Molgheon led her team across a cotton field and onto the tops of two work buildings near the big house. Leinjar waited until the archers were in position before leading Roskin and the others across another field. Even though sunrise was a couple of hours away and the entire plantation seemed sound asleep, Roskin feared every rustle of grass or leaf would rouse attention and spoil their surprise, and the slow walk through the field, though barely three hundred yards, felt as if it took an hour.
    When they reached their hiding place, Roskin’s mouth was dry and his legs were rubber. The four dwarves dug in behind a water trough between the big house and the barracks. The ogre hid behind a small shed. He had been in several battles, but this was his first ambush. He didn’t much like the stealth, for he preferred an open battle on equal terms. However, Crushaw believed that the chaos of marching the entire army onto the plantation would leave too much opportunity for orcs to escape and have troops waiting for them at the next plantation. A surprise attack by a small force had the best chance to control the situation, he reasoned.
    Time crawled by, and boredom weighed on Roskin like dew on the cotton leaves. The young Kiredurk, filled with rage and shame at what the orcs had done to him, was ready to attack them at first sight, but the tedium lulled him into a memory of home, causing him to lose focus on the doorway of the barracks. The others must’ve fallen into the same trap, for when the door opened, none motioned to get ready. The first orc to emerge sniffed the air and mumbled something in orcish to the soldiers still inside.
    When he heard the orc’s voice, Roskin’s heart froze and his limbs turned weak. For a moment, his hip and back ached at the memory of the Slithsythe, but just as fast, the ache mushroomed into rage, and without waiting for Leinjar’s signal, Roskin jumped from behind the trough and drew his sword.
    The orc looked at the Kiredurk as if seeing an unexpected friend, but the expression quickly changed to agony as Roskin drove his blade into its belly. As it slumped to the ground, dark blood flowing onto the worn path of the doorway, Roskin greeted the next orc with a horizontal slash across the throat. That orc collapsed onto the first, and both died within seconds.
    The third orc emerged with its pike ready and drove at the Kiredurk with a ferocious lunge, but Roskin, much too deft for such a clumsy attack, stepped to the side and drove his sword into the orc’s exposed ribs. In that instant, a fourth orc was about to reach him. Roskin tried to withdraw the sword but found it stuck fast in