Page 2 of The Barbarian King's Assassin (Magic and Kings 1)
“You will come with us.” The man reached for me, but I retreated. I didn’t like being touched. Only Mother ever hugged me.
“We’ve done nothing wrong,” I insisted. Soldiers only arrested bad people. We weren’t bad people.
“I have my orders.”
A grunt from behind had me half turning to see my mother struggling in the grips of the bearded one. She yelled, “Run, Ilyana. Run and don’t look back.”
Leave her? I couldn’t—
The dagger that slid across her throat had me gaping. The blood spilled in a thick torrent that couldn’t be real. Couldn’t be hers.
Her lips opened and shut, not a vowel escaping. Then stopped moving entirely. The soldier holding her released her body, dead before it even hit the floor.
He killed her.
Shock. Anguish. Anger…
He killed Mother.
Inside, something burst, and I launched myself at her killer. I don’t think he expected my attack and so I hit him full speed. He didn’t even wobble. I attacked like a creature frenzied, screaming and clawing, a wild thing with no reason, just grief to fuel the violence.
The soldier yelled, “Get off me!” He shoved me away with enough strength I sailed until I hit the counter where I’d prepped many a meal with my mother. The impact caused a grunt, and pain bloomed through my torso. I hit the floor in an ungainly heap.
“Grab her!” the leader commanded. “Don’t let her—”
The leader never did finish that sentence because, without thinking, I’d grabbed a kitchen knife and ran at him, plunging it where I could reach, which proved to be a rather unfortunate location.
For him.
He squealed, much like the pigs under the butcher’s knife. I felt no remorse.
An arm wrapped around me and lifted me off the ground. I kicked my feet, twisting as best I could in the grip of the man holding me. I couldn’t fight the strength of that arm. It banded me too tight. It left only my sharp teeth to tear into flesh. I bit hard enough to taste blood.
A shrill scream accompanied my sudden drop to the floor, where I dove for the fireplace poker. My fingers scrabbled to grab, and I swung wildly. The rod connected, and the soldier I’d hit smirked, unimpressed with my feeble blow.
He tore the poker from me and advanced with an ugly scowl. “Stay still and this doesn’t have to hurt.”
If I listened, I’d be dead. Not today.
I darted to the left, but he proved quicker than expected. He grabbed hold of my hanging braid and my feet jerked out from under me. I gasped at the sharp pain in my scalp. Tears pricked my eyes as he dragged me upright. He dangled me and leered. “Maybe I’ll take a minute to show you what it means to be a woman before I send you on your way.”
I was beyond the point of terror and desperate for a way to survive. “Please,” I begged, needing more time. A chance.
He threw me to the floor, and upon impact, I lost my breath. I’d landed beside my mother, and I couldn’t look into her lifeless face. I turned my head as I rolled and got to my knees. The killer grabbed my ankle and dragged me closer.
My fingers dug uselessly at the floor, looking for something, anything, to help. The kitchen knife remained buried to the hilt, out of reach, and yet I stretched my fingers as if it would magically get closer.
Rough hands pushed at my nightgown, exposing my legs. I ignored the touch and kept staring at the knife. If only I could grab it. It would give me a chance. I could fight.
The hands disappeared only because they worked the fabric of his trousers. I’d run out of time.
I needed the knife.
Now!
Inside my head I screamed and closed my eyes as my legs were wrenched apart.
A hilt hit my palm, and the moment my fingers curled around it, I swung. The blade entered the man’s side, but I didn’t stop with just one puncture. The soldier threw himself away from me, but I followed, driving the knife into his body again and again.