Of Blood And Fire by Ryan Cahill (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

think we could show you such a good time that you might even want to pay us after,” the handsome man said, laughing to himself.

There was a flash of movement that Ella’s eyes didn’t catch. The handsome man went crashing to the ground with a howl. His left hand pulled up to his face, attempting to stem the flow of blood trickling from his lip.

“The woman said to leave her alone.” The man who had thrown the punch had a strong, confident voice. He stood a head above both men. He could not have been more than two or three summers older than Ella, but he held himself like a man who had seen many more than that. His rich green eyes were warm against his porcelain skin. He had near shoulder-length brown hair and a short, close-cut beard to match. A glistening white mantle was draped around his shoulders, and he wore a surcoat of deep green. At the centre of the surcoat was a motif of a sword, pointing downward, set into the image of a sunburst, all painted in white. The surcoat just about covered a polished steel breastplate, and he had a pair of shimmering steel greaves, and vambraces that matched the breastplates meticulous sheen.

“Oh, you are going to pay for that,” the handsome man growled. He pushed himself to his feet. The thin ever-flowing stream of blood now marked a line from his lips to his chin. He twisted his hands into fists. The man in the green surcoat tilted his head to the side. A wry smile formed on his lips, as if amused by the comment.

“Kaffa, that symbol,” Rufin said, pointing at the sword and sunburst motif on the man’s surcoat. His voice only rose above a whisper. “The Knights of Achyron.”

Kaffa’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “The Knights? That old cult? You listen to too many fairy tales, Rufin,” he scoffed.

“It’s not a fairy tale, Kaffa. She’s not worth it.”

Rufin put his hand on Kaffa’s shoulder, tugging at his shirt to draw him down one of the side alleys. His hand was met with resistance, but Ella saw hesitation in Kaffa’s eyes.

She became very aware that she still stood between the man in the green surcoat and her would-be attackers. She slowly stepped backwards, towards the edge of the street, her eyes flitting between the two.

“I would listen to your friend. All fairy tales hold truth,” the man said. His voice was flat and measured. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his fingers tapping on its rounded silver pommel, one after another.

Kaffa and Rufin exchanged a glance. Kaffa let out an irritated sigh. His eyes narrowed, and a growl escaped his throat. He raised his hand and pointed towards the knight. “We’ll be seeing you around.” The words left his lips like stones being dragged across rusty iron.

“I sure hope you do,” the knight called back as the two men skulked away into the shadows. He turned back towards Ella. He puffed out his cheeks and let out a sigh, then his mouth stretched into a tentative smile. “Well, that could have gone worse,” he said with a cautious chuckle. He ran his hand through his hair. “Are you okay?”

Ella was completely off-put by how calm he was. Her heart raced like it was running for its life, and her stomach was in knots. But he seemed like he had just broken up a fight between two children.

“I… Thank you for what you did. This is my first time in the city. I didn’t know…”

“It’s okay. Camylin is a lovely city – by day. By night, it is a bit different, much like any city you will find. It’s not safe to walk around by yourself, whether you’re a man or a woman.”

Ella raised one eyebrow. “But you’re walking around on your own.”

“Well, it’s a little different for me – as you can see.” He gestured down the alleyway after the two men who had slithered away.

“Right, well… Thank you. Your kindness is beyond appreciated, but I must go. I’m definitely late, and Rhett will surely be worried.” Ella clutched the hem of her skirt, her nerves still in a fluster.

“You don’t have far to go, do you? I can walk you where you need to go.”

“No, no… it’s okay. I need to be going. Thank you again. Please be safe.” Ella walked away so fast that she was almost running. She heard him calling after her, but she couldn’t make out the words. Her heart still pounded on her chest like it was a door that desperately needed to be answered.

As she walked, she felt a tear trickle down her cheek She broke into a soft sob, never slowing her pace.

She couldn’t tell Rhett. She didn’t want him to worry. He would never let her go anywhere alone again.

Rhett tapped his fingers on the old oak table. It had seen better days. He pulled a strip of wood off the edge; it crumbled and flaked at his touch.

He had been back in the Twisted Oak for about an hour or so. The innkeeper, Forn, approached him as soon as he came in to let him know that someone had left a letter for him, a big grin on his bony weathered face. Rhett had told his uncle where he would be, but he still only half-expected to receive the letter.

He took a pensive sip of his ale. He wasn’t sure he would ever really get used to the harsh, bitter taste. It always clung to the back of his throat for far longer than it was welcome. It was nothing like the sweet taste of Lasch Havel’s mead. He could almost taste it on his tongue. He was going to miss that. He sighed longingly to himself, then picked up the letter with both hands and read over it again.

Rhett,

 

I hope this letter finds you well.

 

The Twisted Oak has seen better