Siege of Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

soldiers, almost all of the slaves had taken to wielding dual blades as opposed to the traditional sword and shield style. Defensive strategies were considered an unnecessary gamble by most of these warriors, and why not? Their gifted bodies were far bigger and stronger than most, so simply going toe-to-toe with any of them was never advisable. Their naturally long reach and preference for two weapons put foes back on their heels before the first blow ever fell. It was a distinct disadvantage most warriors would never overcome, no matter their skill set.
    Athel leaned patiently against the thick wood framing the entrance as she watched the half-naked men clacking away at each other, each strike and counter so fierce it seemed their very lives were on the line, but this was the standard intensity level each and every day. A warrior’s pride was on the line at all times, whether whirling his blades as if they were part of his very life force or making love to a woman who would soon forget the names and faces of every other man who had ever felt her touch. The men took no shame in losing a drill as long as they put forth their best effort. Every stinging blow was a lesson learned; every blow landed, a step closer to perfection.
    Athel’s breath began to come in long, deep bursts, her chest rising and falling visibly as she watched the sweaty men make their dance of death seem poetic and effortless. Her silver front teeth flashed a little sparkle in the afternoon light as she hungrily ran her tongue across them with an open mouth. Whether the graceful scene triggered the yearning of a man’s touch or a deep, primal bloodlust, even she could not say. But one thing was certain: as much as she loved to watch, participating was all the sweeter. Now where are Hasur and Timith ? Even as the question entered her head, she was sure of the answer.
    She turned back the way she came and floated down the stone ramp, moving stealthily, like an assassin in the night. Athel’s sleek, stalking movements hadn’t been by choice for many years now, as her light footsteps seemed to barely touch the cold ground. Her passion to be the best had now flowed into her private life, and she was a warrior even when she slept.
    Torches flickering to her right and left illuminated her path instead of the usually abundant oil lamps that were almost always used. She was perfectly aware of their usual hiding place, yet could already hear their angry whispers giving away their location.
    “Don’t you think you were going a bit hard today?” said Hasur in a harsh, forced whisper. The tall, nearly skinny man towered over the other, his dark eyes flashing with anger. With both hands flush high against the gray stone wall and his body in close, he seemed to have Timith trapped with nowhere to go.
    “Who are you to complain of a little competition?” asked Timith as he easily thrust the other man back with a quick, hard push, nearly causing him to fall. The much shorter man was nearly as wide as he was tall. A thick, dark beard and mustache couldn’t hide his scowl. “I recall almost losing my head out there more than once. But if I’m too rough a sparring partner, then perhaps one of serving girls is available. Hey...perhaps even one of the children could take my place!”
    Hasur rushed back in with lightning speed, his hand pinning Timith’s head against the stone wall as he looked hard into his eyes. “Perhaps I should take your heart next time,” he whispered in a much softer, more distracted tone than before.
    The stout man didn’t seem to be struggling much as his return gaze held a subtle softness to it. “I’m afraid you’ve already done that,” said Timith as he began to lean his head forward. Wrapping his hands gently around the back of the other man’s shoulders, their lips came within inches of one another.
    They leapt apart as if an explosion had occurred between them when the subtle sound of a throat clearing warned of an additional