Read Sebastian Darke: Prince of Fools for Free Online Page B

As he lashed out, Sebastian swayed sideways and the tip of the sword hissed a deadly arc a few inches from his right ear; then he swung back and slashed with his own blade, feeling it bite clean through the rider's chain-mail vest at his waist. The equine raced on, but as Sebastian turned to look, the rider tipped sideways in his saddle and went crashing heavily into the dirt. He lay there, writhing in agony, blood seeping through his vest.
     
Sebastian felt a sudden rush of exhilaration go through him. He'd done it! He'd faced a Brigand in mortal combat and emerged victorious! He opened his mouth to give a shout of triumph, but in that instant something heavy slammed into his back, driving the breath out of his lungs. He went sprawling to the ground, in total confusion, rolled over several times and came to rest lying on his back, his sword no longer in his hand. He looked up and saw a huge, barrel-chested Brigand approaching him, giving him a gap-toothed grin. He was brandishing the heavy club with which he had just struck Sebastian, and it was clear from the way he swaggered closer that he had every intention of using it again.
     
Sebastian looked desperately around for his sword and saw it lying a short distance away. If he could just clear his thoughts enough to make a dive for it – but the Brigand was shaking his ugly, bearded head.
     
'Forget it, Elf-man. It's not going to happen,' he said. He came closer, the club raised to strike.
     
Sebastian lay there, only vaguely aware of a strange thundering that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him. He steeled himself for the killing blow and offered up a quick prayer that his father would be there to meet him in the next world. But the blow never came.
     
Instead, a huge horned head lurched into view, striking the Brigand full in his chest and sending him tumbling across the ground like a broken doll.
     
'Max!' Sebastian looked up delightedly, but such was the impetus of the caravan that the buffalope could not stop, and he went racing crazily past, the wheels missing Sebastian by inches. The stunned Brigand was just struggling back to his feet when Max and the caravan trampled him flat and thundered on into the thick of the battle, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. Sebastian shook his head and got back to his feet. He retrieved his sword and ran after the caravan into the dust cloud.
     
Suddenly he was immersed in a strange half-lit chaos of fighting, struggling men. A Brigand with a huge horned helmet came lurching at him out of the dust and Sebastian reacted instinctively, slashing at the man's helmet with his sword. He felt the impact of the blow all along the length of his arm and the man dropped backwards out of sight. Sebastian stood there, staring at his sword in amazement.
     
'Ha, ha, that's the spirit, lad!' roared a voice down by his hip, and he saw Cornelius go running past. He was spattered with blood and dirt, but looked as though he was having the time of his life. 'I think I've dealt with all their archers. Now, come with me. Must be something pretty valuable in that carriage!'
     
Sebastian followed the little warrior without question and found himself a short distance away from the opulent carriage. The last of the guards had just fallen to the swords of the Brigands and now one of them, a huge, bare-chested, shaven-headed man with a goatee beard, was triumphantly reaching out to pull aside the satin curtains that covered the doorway. As he did so, a large clay pot came flying out of the gloom and hit him full in the face, knocking him backwards to the floor. He lay there stunned for a moment, then grunted in surprise as first Cornelius and then Sebastian used his chest as a convenient springboard to launch themselves up onto the wooden steps of the carriage. They turned at bay, their swords raised to defend the curtained doorway, and found themselves confronted by a half-circle of scowling, armed-to-the-teeth warriors.
     
There was a