It was barely dawn and they hadn’t gone far before Brutus decided to rebel. They’d managed to sneak out of town by passing through the unfinished part of the wall to the west. They’d past beyond sight of Thebys, and Lance was ready to let Brutus loose to gallop as hard as he wanted. That was when Brutus stopped short and neighed shrilly. His ears flattened and he braced his legs, refusing to budge.
Lance grimaced, heart pounding in panic and confusion.
“What are you doing?” He slammed his heels into Brutus’s sides but nothing happened. “Don’t do this! Not now! We have to find Ulfr. You’re wasting time!”
Brutus shook his head violently, wrenching the reins from his hands. Lance was in shock. This had never happened before. He dismounted and gripped the bridle itself, using all the strength he could muster to hold his friend’s head still.
“Don’t you understand this has to happen? I have to protect everyone by leaving. And I can’t let Gust find out I’m Scourge. You know I can’t!”
Brutus whinnied and snapped his teeth, stamping his front legs. He attempted to pull away and Lance held firm.
“You are infuriating me!”
Brutus neighed again as if to say, “And you are infuriating me!”
Then Lance fell into a blistering argument with his horse who gave as good as he got. Lance understood his horse as few men could and knew exactly the point Brutus was making. He was so intent on making Brutus see the wisdom of his logic that he failed to recognize the beat of hooves until the rider was upon them. He cursed and spun around to mount Brutus right as the rider shouted.
“Lance!”
Lance spun around again. “Gust?”
From the light of the new dawn, the fury in Gust’s gaze was evident. He leapt off his horse and without pausing, slapped Lance right across the face. Stunned by the show of violence, Lance staggered and didn’t know what to do. Then Gust shocked him again by pulling him into a tight hug that took his breath away.
“Friends don’t abandon each other,” he whispered in a choked voice.
Lance held him close, shame, confusion, and fear swirling like a dark mixture inside. “I just—I thought it would be best to face Ulfr away from Thebys. I wanted to find him first. The fight is between him and me.”
“And what then? What happens to you then? Do you honestly think Ulfr will let you fight one-on-one? Isn’t it more likely he’ll have everyone gang up on you?”
“I don’t know. I think I can goad him into a fair fight. With him dead, his warriors won’t know what to do. He’s like a god to them. It doesn’t matter what happens to me. I have to save you and your town.”
Gust pulled back and grabbed his face, strong hands pressed against his cheeks. He acutely felt every place their skin touched. Gust’s eyes burned like emerald fire.
“Of course, you matter, you idiot. You matter to me.”
Lance closed his eyes as shame washed over him again. He was just so damn confused. What was the right decision? Was there even one?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Gust hugged him again as Lance’s heart ached.
“We return together. We’re stronger together. Trust me.”
“I do, Gust. I do.”
They returned to Thebys as the sun broke the horizon.
Lance cuddled the puppy close under the watchful eye of Nawa. The dog licked his cheek and wiggled his tail hard enough that his butt jumped around. Lance nuzzled the small life before setting him on the ground. Two other puppies jumped up, trying to reach his face. He picked them up one at a time, giving them each a turn. Then three adult dogs came closer and nuzzled him for attention. He chuckled and scratched their ears.
It was still the morning of his ill-advised attempt on leaving. He happened to walk past Nawa’s property after separating from Gust who was called to assist in a birth, and she had her dogs and puppies out for exercise. Gust only left after he gave his solemn oath to stay and face Ulfr with the people of Thebys. Several folks he vaguely recognized milled around to keep the dogs from going too wild. Without Gust by his side he had to gather his courage and approach Nawa, asking permission to play with her dogs. She hesitated only a moment before giving it. He was beyond thrilled. Now happiness nearly burst his chest. The soulful dark eyes of the wolfhounds reminded him of Brutus although there was none of the divine intelligence. He didn’t have to put on a show for them or pretend to be anything. He could just pet and scratch them and earn their affection that way. So simple.
Ulfr had sometimes owned dogs but they would either die of starvation, wander away, or be killed in battle. There’d been a handful of times over the years that different warriors had beaten the poor beasts to death. Despite never feeling anything for humans, Lance had always felt a heavy weight in his stomach whenever one of the dogs would die. It wasn’t sadness, more like a disconnected sense of loss.
“Lance!”
Lance looked over his shoulder and grinned, feeling both pleasure and guilt. Gust smiled and strode up to him. The dogs abandoned Lance for Gust, and Lance stood, brushing off his knees. Gust handled the dogs easily and when he commanded them to sit, the adults did. The puppies flopped over his feet or licked his legs.
Gust laughed and gently brushed them aside. “They’ll learn.”
Lance frowned and glanced at Nawa. He had no evidence that she treated her dogs at all badly but he suddenly feared for them.
“Lance?”
“What does she do to them if they misbehave?”
“What do you mean?”
Lance shrugged. “Ulfr wasn’t kind or patient. So many were beaten for not obeying him.”
Gust’s eyes widened. “Let me set your mind to rest. Nawa is kind and firm with her dogs. She trains them well and treats them decent. She inspects any future owner carefully. Trust me, her dogs are her children. They’re her life.”
Lance’s tension eased and he blew out a breath. “Good.”
Gust smiled gently and patted his arm. “Come on, let’s go eat.”
Lance nodded and turned to Nawa. “Thank you.”
She nodded. She flicked her gaze back and forth between them before gesturing. “Come here. You two off to eat?”
“Yes,” Gust said.
“Come inside. I already have stew simmering.”
Gust’s eyes widened, and he flicked a startled glance at Lance behind Nawa’s back. She shuffled a few steps forward, lifting her skirt slightly to make walking easier. She was one of the only women in town that wore ankle-length skirts. Her bodice was also modest, and she had sleeves that reached her elbow.
She glanced over her shoulder at them. “Come on, you two.” Then she whistled and the adult dogs ran back to her, many carrying puppies or nudging at them to move.
Every single one barreled into her house, and Gust and Lance brought up the rear.
“This is so weird,” Gust said, whispering in Lance’s ear. “She’s usually unfriendly and doesn’t like visitors. She wants something from us.”
Lance frowned and stayed silent as the dogs made their way to their respective beds set around the large living area. The house certainly smelled like dog but not unpleasantly. Nawa had servants that helped her stay tidy and to give the dogs the attention they deserved.
They followed her into the kitchen where she gestured to a small table in the corner. Gust shrugged at Lance before sitting. Lance followed suit. Nawa didn’t speak until she’d ladled soup into three bowls and sat herself at the table.
“Dig in, lads.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Nawa asked Gust how his aunt was doing. The conversation continued in that vein for a short time, and Nawa made sure Lance wasn’t left out. She didn’t ask probing questions, although she did scrutinize him, and it made him slightly nervous. He wanted to make a good impression and couldn’t determine if he succeeded or not.
When they’d finished the stew, Nawa stood. She looked at Gust.
“I always knew you were a good boy and would make your parents proud.”
Gust was speechless.
Then she turned to Lance and set her hand on his shoulder. “And you’re a good lad, too. I can always tell. I bet you make your parents proud as well.”
He cleared his throat when it threatened to close. “I, uh, don’t have parents.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Pity that. Well then. You make Gust proud.”
Lance didn’t know how to respond to that. Proud? After the mistakes he’d made? And still lying about being Scourge? He felt like a traitor.
“Now get gone. Out with ya.” She shooed them out of her house with a small smile on her face. She shut the door behind them and left them standing on the steps. Lance was puzzled and his confusion was reflected on Gust’s face.
“What was that?” Lance asked.
Gust shook his head as if coming out of a daze. He nudged Lance’s shoulder and started walking. “I guess she wanted to take your measure. She approved.”
“Huh.”
The warning bell sounded, startling them both. Lance moved first, running and whistling for Brutus. After weeks of glimpses of what it might be like to live in a town, a community, and to have friends, now he ran toward his true purpose. It was time for war. It was time to end the stalemate.
Brutus galloped toward him, still saddled. Lance gripped the hilt of his sword, body bracing for the battle to come. Brutus stopped in front of him, dancing in excitement and agitation.
“Lance!” Gust stumbled after him.
“Get to your position,” he said as he swung up into the saddle. He spared just a moment to gaze at Gust’s face, to see the worry and hope in his green eyes.
“Believe in me,” he said. “I beg you.”
Gust smiled tremulously and gripped Lance’s knee. “I do.”
Lance wanted to kiss him right on the mouth. Instead, he clicked his tongue, and Brutus shot off like an arrow from a bow. They charged through town, weaving between people as everyone scrambled to their positions. Brutus had to do some leaping over people, and he cleared them with room to spare.
The fact that they received no warning except the bell made Lance worry that Ulfr had either destroyed or at least frightened the nearby villages and towns. Or maybe he knew backroads and avoided detection. Lance had no way of knowing. He didn’t know these lands. And gods, how had Ulfr come so far so fast? He should still be days away, even a week. It didn’t matter now.
“Lance!”
He swung his head around as Ally ran toward him, eyes wide and holding up a mail shirt. He pulled on Brutus’s reins, much to the stallion’s displeasure, and dismounted. Ally was quick and efficient as she slipped the mail over his head and belted it around his waist.
“I hoped to have more time,” she muttered as she adjusted it around his chest. “This should give you some protection. More than cloth, at least.”
As soon as her hands fell away, he yanked her into a tight hug. She grunted in surprise and patted his back.
“Thank you.”
“Earn it,” she said.
He pulled away and met her fierce eyes, nodding sharply. Then he turned and once more swung unto Brutus’s back. As soon as he was settled Brutus jumped forward without any prompting. They charged up the slight incline to the stone wall even as many of the townspeople scrambled behind him. The children, elderly, and many of the women fled to the temple. The sun was full in the sky although it was still early morning, meaning barely anyone was ready for battle. Exactly as Ulfr intended. Brutus leapt easily over the gate and then planted himself in front of it, the message clear—Ulfr had to get through them if he wanted to harm the town.
Lance quickly cinched up his vambraces as Ulfr and his gang raced down the dirt road, pushing their horses to their limits. Ulfr’s banner rippled prominently from the middle of the force, a warning and declaration to all to be afraid.
Lord Semesy’s soldiers had never come, and Lord Khepi had never answered Thebys’s summons, nor had any of the messengers returned. Lance feared that Ulfr had found them first and disposed of them. If Ulfr used the main roads then he would have had to cross paths with Lord Semesy’s soldiers.
Lance clenched his jaw as he vaguely noticed the townspeople running and shouting behind him. He glanced over his shoulder once and approved of their coordinated efforts. Mandissa and Kurzun also assisted where they could and prayed and blessed everyone, asking the gods for strength and protection.
He turned back to the front as his heart raced and his blood churned. Fear was replaced with anger. Anger at everything Ulfr had done to him, anger at what Ulfr wanted to do to this town. To Gust.
No.
Ulfr ended today. Lance felt now and Ulfr would realize how much stronger that made him. Lance stood straight and tall, shoulders back, head high, and sword at the ready. Time to find out what the gods had planned for him. Time to see if the monster could kill his master.
He knew the moment Ulfr recognized him because he held up a broad fist and pulled harshly on the reins of his horse. They all slowed, kicking up dirt and dust. While the rest of the warband halted feet away, Ulfr trotted closer, dark eyes glinting with malice.
Lance’s stomach pitched as he noticed the golden helmets dangling from Ulfr’s saddle, bearing the badger, the standard of Lord Semesy. His suspicions proved true. Ulfr probably intercepted Thebys’s messengers to Lord Khepi as well. There would be no help for them.
Ulfr finally stopped when their horses could easily brush noses. Ulfr raked his gaze over Lance before leaning over the saddle and spitting on the ground.
“Still alive,” he said in Taris. “I suppose I have this godless town to thank for that?”
Lance eyed him. “You should not have come here.”
Ulfr snorted. “I swore I would finish the job I started weeks ago. I always keep my word, dog.”
“I am not your dog anymore.”
Ulfr grinned, eyes cold, before moving his gaze over the people gathered. He took in the prosperity of the town, and Lance knew he was visualizing burning it to ash.
“Citizens of Thebys,” Ulfr said, raising his voice. “I have to wonder about your healers, that they would help the murderer of hundreds of innocents live another day.”
“Don’t,” Lance said, unable to stop himself.
Ulfr glanced at him gleefully. “You have my most faithful dog in your midst, simpletons. The one in the black amour without mercy or conscious.”
Lance glared at Ulfr, hating everything about him. He was a coward for not saying something sooner, for not confiding in Gust and trusting in their friendship. He’d wanted to live in a peaceful bubble without hard decisions. Now he would pay for that cowardice.
“Scourge.”
Lance felt the shocked silence behind him, a palpable sensation of horror and disgust. Brutus stamped his foot and flung his head with a derisive snort.
Lance took a deep breath and spoke loudly. “Perhaps once I was Scourge. Perhaps once I was this monster’s dog. But I am no longer. I ran the gauntlet after I refused to kill an innocent baby and her mother. I am free. I am Lance. You have nothing to fear from me.” He snarled at Ulfr. “This town and everyone in it are under my protection. Therefore, I challenge you.”
Ulfr flung back his head and laughed boisterously. Many of his gang did as well while others snickered or sneered at Lance. Lance kept his eyes on Ulfr, expecting deception or trickery.
“You, challenge me?” Ulfr said after he found his voice. “You’ve fought me before, dog. You’ve eaten dirt every time.”
“Yes, I have.” Lance met and held his dark gaze. “But that was before I cared. That was before I had something to protect. I am not the same. I am not your Scourge.”
Ulfr’s expression changed. He must have seen the truth in Lance’s eyes because all humor fled and he scowled. “What a waste. You’re broken mind was your best quality. Now I see it’s filled with soft thoughts. You’re weak.”
“Call it what you want but I enjoy caring and I enjoy laughing. I enjoy kindness and tenderness and affection. I enjoy life, Ulfr. And I will fight for it.”
“You will die for it.”
“If the gods will it.”
Ulfr snorted. “Since when have you ever given a thought to the gods?”
“Since they gave me a second chance.” Lance narrowed his eyes. “Do you accept my challenge?”
With a vicious little smile, Ulfr nodded. “Aye, I do. The usual terms.”
Lance sucked in a deep breath. Winner takes all. “Agreed.”
Ulfr eyed Brutus. “On foot.”
Brutus shied and Lance patted his neck. “Agreed.”
Ulfr raised both hands and pointed in opposite directions. His gang spread out, creating a long line of brutal warriors facing Thebys. Lance wouldn’t put it past Ulfr to order an attack halfway through the duel, keeping Lance too distracted to help the town. Well, that was why they’d trained. And Lance wanted Ulfr’s attention on him. As soon as Ulfr died, Lance was certain at least half the warriors would run. He hadn’t lied to Gust when he said the warriors thought Ulfr akin to a god. To lose him would fracture their confidence.
They both dismounted, eyes locked on the other. Brutus snorted and planted himself firmly in front of the gate. He lowered his head and eyed everyone bullishly.
Ulfr drew his war axes and Lance held Ally’s reliable sword in both hands. Her mail was lighter than his black armor, and the fact she made it especially for him, to protect him, gave him a warm feeling in his gut. She cared.
For a long moment everyone held their breaths.
Then Lance let out a piercing scream before charging like an enraged bull. The suddenness of the attack momentarily startled Ulfr but he recovered in a heartbeat and brought his axes up to block. The impact radiated up Lance’s arms and vibrated through the air. He danced back only to attack again, merciless, intent on killing. Ulfr was no less committed, no less determined to destroy a weapon he had created.
They had sparred many times before and every single time Ulfr won. This time was different. Lance could feel it—the fire in his veins, the pounding of his heart, the thirsty, murderous intent at his core. He wanted Ulfr dead. He didn’t play with him as he had with Ragel. He attacked again and again with one single goal.
Ulfr met him every time as they circled each other, committed to the deadly dance of life and death. Neither of them gave an inch, neither of them hesitated. Lance snarled and Ulfr growled, the ferocity in those black eyes like pits of the underworld.
Fight for Gust.
Fight for Thebys.
Fight for yourself.
Not only fight… but win.
He would win, gods or no gods. To lose wasn’t an option. Lance slashed his blade through the air and caught Ulfr several times on the arms and yet was unable to deliver a killing blow. Ulfr was too skilled with his axes and his own breastplate was battletested, never failing him. Although something akin to fear lurked in his eyes and flashed to the surface the longer the battle waged. Lance saw it, relished it. Ulfr finally understood that he, at last, had met his match.
Despite Ulfr’s skill, he was still older and bigger than Lance, and Lance used his youth and speed to his advantage. He moved around, keeping Ulfr on the defensive. He was aware of all the eyes on them, warriors and citizens alike. And somewhere out there was Gust. Even if he hadn’t heard what Ulfr had said, someone would tell him. Would they still be friends?
In that moment, in a flash of insight, he knew it didn’t matter if they were friends afterwards. Gust alive was all that mattered. He could stomach Gust’s hate as long as Gust lived to hate. It wasn’t about Lance. It was about the friend he loved.
Pain jolted up his arm as Ulfr sliced his skin with one of his axes. Lance dodged only to come up and use his angle and momentum to knock the same axe out of Ulfr’s hand. He kicked it away as Ulfr roared.
“Attack!”
The warriors were poised to do just that and instantly charged forward. Many urged their horses to leap over the stone walls. Some made it, others didn’t. Brutus rose on his hind legs, shrieking with rage and knocked many riders off their horses, who promptly bolted. No other horse ever wanted to face Brutus.
Lance slashed down and their weapons locked together. Ulfr’s eyes burned with black fire. Lance wasn’t afraid of him—he was only afraid for the people of Thebys. The sounds of battle clashed against his ears, and he yearned to join them, to fight alongside them. But he was needed here. He would do far more good here.
“Your town will burn,” Ulfr said with a wolf’s growl. “I will raise it to the ground and soak the earth with their blood. You will lose, Lance. You were always meant to lose.”
“Not this time,” he said, panting.
“We could have been great!” Ulfr said as they pitted their strength against each other.
Lance dug his heels into the dirt and despised his trembling arms as Ulfr’s strength began to press him down.
“I had it all planned out. We could have been worshipped like gods! He would have made me an earl.”
“He who?”
Ulfr gritted his teeth. “Lord Jorvikr, dog. How do you think we managed to operate as successfully as we did?”
Lance didn’t understand. It didn’t matter. Not now.
“Then you had to muck it all up because of a filthy babe and her whore mother.”
The baby girl’s laughter echoed in Lance’s mind, a phantom sound that triggered something deep inside him. He didn’t know what it was but it strengthened his resolve, his determination, and his passionate desire to protect all those he cared about.
He would not lose this fight.
Lance ground his teeth together and pushed back. Ulfr’s eyes widened and he bore down. They were truly locked together as the battle for Thebys waged beyond them, as shouts and screams and clashes of iron and steel rebounded along the buildings and mountains and trees.
“The beautiful baby and her loving mother,” Lance said tightly, “are devotees of the gods I now worship. The gods of kindness, love, and friendship.”
With every word he pushed harder against Ulfr, causing the warlord to take a step back. Then another. And another.
“The gods of protection and community. Ysys, Drska. Anknet. Batsa. Those are my gods. And they are stronger than Snet.”
Ulfr set his feet and leaned closer to Lance. “You think so? After Brutus dragged your broken shell out of my sight, I had my men track that whore and her maggot. They gutted them and let the wolves have the rest. But only after my men raped that whore in every hole she had.”
Red covered his vision and Lance screamed like a wraith as pure wrath filled every part of his mind, heart, and soul. He flung his entire strength at Ulfr, and apparently Ulfr didn’t expect such a visceral reaction to the news. He couldn’t compensate for the sudden full-blown attack. Lance ran against him, their bodies pressed together, their blades dangerously close to their faces. Ulfr couldn’t dodge or back away quick enough and became tangled in his own feet.
He fell.
Lance dropped with him, forgoing the sword and beating on him with his fists, still screaming. Then he pulled the dagger he’d won at the festival from his belt and tried to stab Ulfr in the face. Ulfr lifted his axe, caught the downward stroke, and twisted and jerked, causing Lance to lose his grip. The dagger flung away. Lance encircled Ulfr’s neck with one hand while gripping his wrist with the other. He bit Ulfr’s wrist, and Ulfr could no longer hold his axe. It dropped to the ground.
Ulfr used his other hand to grasp Lance’s hair and tug his head backward. Lance clamped down harder on Ulfr’s flesh and, with a bellow, Ulfr wrenched his arm away. Lance took a chunk of skin and muscle as blood gushed, splashing over both of them.
“You crazy dog!”
Lance spat the hunk of flesh at Ulfr’s face before clamping both hands around his neck and squeezing. Ulfr had only one hand now to work with, and he tugged Lance’s hair with all his might. Lance had no choice but let go. Fury and wrath still burned inside him, and he rolled off Ulfr, pushing to his hands and knees to reach for his sword.
Putting his back to Ulfr proved to be a mistake when Ulfr flung his body on Lance, pinning him to the ground with his girth. Lance grunted and struggled, snarling and still reaching for the sword, inches away. Ulfr put all his weight on Lance, blood still gushing from his wrist.
“When I die,” he whispered, voice rasping against Lance’s ear, “you die with me, Lance.” He wrapped his good hand around Lance’s throat and squeezed. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine to keep or to kill. You’re a violent dog that needs a master.”
“Curse you to the mouth of Mawn!” Lance choked out. He couldn’t get free!
Ulfr was going to die, that was for certain. But would he be true to his word and take Lance with him? Perhaps that was for the best. He wouldn’t hurt anyone else if he was dead.
For some strange reason, the story of Appep and Ausar flashed in his mind. Enemies locked in mortal combat, both killing the other. Fitting.
Spots began to appear before Lance’s eyes as his vision dimmed. His heart pounded like a war drum against his ears, and his head felt swelled beyond its capabilities. The pain grew more visceral and all-consuming. His fury fractured as he neared death’s door.
Ulfr grunted in pain before someone else grunted and groaned and cursed as Ulfr’s hand and weight suddenly disappeared. Lance sucked in air and coughed on the exhale. He inhaled and coughed a few times before he flopped onto his back. His spinning vision finally settled on a sight that shocked him.
Gust stood between him and Ulfr, arrow nocked and pointed at Ulfr’s heart.
Ulfr laughed wheezily. “I’m dead already, archer. You going to get your rocks off by watching me breathe my last?”
Gust was trembling. Lance gripped his chest and sat up, panting.
“Gust,” he croaked.
“I can’t—” Gust whispered chokingly. “I can’t kill him. Not like this.”
“Then don’t,” Lance said as he stood. It hurt to speak. He hobbled over to his sword and picked it up. “That’s why I’m here.”
He wouldn’t have minded watching Ulfr breathe his last with agonizing slowness and indignity. But the battle for Thebys still waged and fires were burning from home to home. Ulfr’s warriors had to know their leader was dead. This had to stop.
He nudged Gust aside and lifted his sword over Ulfr’s head. Gust lowered his bow and stepped away, turning his back on the scene.
“They will turn on you,” Ulfr whispered. “Try to be their hero and they will spit on you. Curse you. You waste your time protecting them, Lance. It will gain you nothing.”
Lance held Ulfr’s gaze and whispered, “Nothing but my soul.”
Then he brought the blade down, cleanly severing Ulfr’s head from his body. The impact radiated up his arms and he winced. He grabbed a hunk of Ulfr’s black hair and lifted the severed head before whistling sharp and clear. It wasn’t long before Brutus thundered toward him, splattered with blood and rage roiling in his dark eyes. Lance stiffly mounted and then looked at Gust, who appeared dazed and much too pale despite his dark skin.
“Gust.”
He flinched and glanced at Lance before looking away. “Go. I’m right behind you.”
No time to talk. Not now. Lance kicked Brutus’s sides, and they were off, charging into town. With one hand he held Ulfr’s head, in the other, his sword. The citizens of Thebys appeared to be holding their own, mostly due to the archers, and yet the fires were starting to spread out of hand. They could be smothered if the citizens were allowed to focus on them. But they were still fighting for their lives.
Lance sliced a few warriors, gaining their attention. He screamed and Brutus shrieked, the sounds rising above the noise of battle.
“Ulfr Blackwolf is dead!” Lance bellowed, his throat protesting the effort. Brutus rose on his hind legs, and Lance moved with his horse, as one with his friend.
Warriors turned their heads and citizens of Thebys soon realized their battle was near an end. Lance held up Ulfr’s mangled, bloody head, a bit of spine dangling from the grotesque proof of Ulfr’s defeat.
“If you don’t wish to join him, I suggest you flee now while you still can!” Lance tossed the head up in the air. Silence fell as the head did, and everyone heard the sickening smack when it hit the ground.
Despite feeling ill and trembling, Lance sat steadily on Brutus and raised his sword, only then realizing it and his clothes and skin were covered in blood. He was soaked in it and barely managed not to cough at the overwhelming stench. He could still taste Ulfr in his mouth, probably still had bits of him stuck between his teeth. He never had such a visceral reaction to blood before and suspected it was because he felt now.
The warriors knew what he was capable of doing. They’d seen him slaughter hundreds, he’d just killed their leader, and this town wasn’t going to lie down and die like the others. They were prepared and aching for a fight.
Like the cowards they were, the warriors fled. Lance stared at their backs, knowing he would be seeing them again. He knew his mission now. He knew his purpose now.
As soon as the last warrior fled, Lance slumped on Brutus’s back and tilted his head back, staring at the sky. The bright blue nearly blinded him. He closed his eyes and vaguely heard movement around him. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Brutus’s neck.
“We need to wash up,” he muttered, eyes still closed. “Take me to the river.”
With a snort, Brutus trotted away. Lance felt numerous gazes on him and kept his eyes closed. He tightened his grip on Brutus and trusted his friend to lead them away from the accusations and hostility.