Read A Rule of Queens (Book #13 in the Sorcerer's Ring) for Free Online

and as he did, he felt his ancestors looking down on him. He
felt all the slaves who had ever been killed looking down on him, supporting
him. And he began to feel a great heat rising up within him.
    Darius felt his hidden power deep within beginning
to stir, itching to be summoned. But he would not allow himself to go there. He
wanted to fight them man to man, to beat them as any man would, to apply all of
his training with his brothers in arms. He wanted to win as a man, fight like a
man with real metal weapons, and defeat them on their own terms. He had always
been faster than all of the older boys, with their long wooden swords and
muscular frames, even boys twice his size. He dug in, and braced himself as
they charged.
    “Loti!” he called out, not turning, “RUN! Go
back to the village!”
    “NO!” she yelled back.
    Darius knew he had to do something; he could
not stand there and wait for them to reach him. He knew he had to surprise
them, to do something they would not expect.
    Darius suddenly charged, choosing one of the
two soldiers and racing right for him. They met in the middle of the dirt
clearing, Darius letting out a great battle cry. The soldier slashed his sword
at Darius’s head, but Darius raised his sword and blocked it, their swords
sparking, the impact of metal on metal the first Darius had ever felt. The blade
was heavier than he thought, the soldier’s blow stronger, and he felt a great
vibration, felt his entire arm shaking, up to his elbow and into his shoulder. It
caught him off guard.
    The soldier swung around quickly, aiming to
strike Darius from the side, and Darius spun and blocked. This did not feel
like sparring with his brothers; Darius felt himself moving slower than usual,
the blade so heavy. It was taking some getting used to. It felt as if the other
soldier were moving twice as fast as he.
    The soldier swung again, and Darius realized he
could not beat him blow for blow; he had to draw on his other skills.
    Darius stepped sideways, ducking the blow
instead of meeting it, and he then threw an elbow into the soldier’s throat. He
caught it perfectly. The man gagged and stumbled back, hunched over, grasping
his throat. Darius raised the butt of his sword and brought it down on his
exposed back, sending him face down into the dirt.
    At the same time the other soldier charged, and
Darius spun, raised his sword, and blocked a mighty blow as it came down for
his face. The soldier kept charging, though, driving Darius back and down to
the ground, hard.
    Darius felt his rib cage being crushed as the
soldier lay on top of him, both of them landing on the hard dirt in a big cloud
of dust. The soldier dropped his sword and reached out with his hands, trying
to gouge out Darius’s eyes with his fingers.
    Darius grabbed his wrists, holding them back
with shaking hands, but losing ground. He knew he needed to do something fast.
    Darius raised a knee and turned, managing to
spin the man onto his side. In the same motion, Darius reached down and
extracted the long dagger he spotted in the man’s belt—and in the same motion,
raised it high and plunged it into the man’s chest, as they rolled on the
ground,
    The soldier cried out, and Darius lay there on
top of him, and watched him die before his eyes.  Darius lay there, frozen, shocked.
It was the first time he had killed a man. It was a surreal experience. He felt
victorious yet saddened at the same time.
    Darius heard a cry from behind, snapping him
out of it, and he turned to see the other soldier, the one he had knocked out,
back on his feet, racing for him. He raised his sword and swung it for his
head.
    Darius waited, focused, then ducked at the last
second; the soldier went stumbling past him.
    Darius reached down and drew the dagger from
the dead man’s chest and spun around, and as the soldier turned back and
charged again, Darius, on his knees, leaned forward and threw it.
    He watched the blade spin end over end, then
finally lodge