Soldier - Chapter One by Dee Carney
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Nicholas died. He had to have died. He can recall the moments of his death. But now he's here - alive and well - in a time and place he does
not know...and intrigued by the woman who has come to his rescue.
Anna can't figure out why on earth she's willing to help the man she found nude on her lawn this morning. The fact that she's aching to jump
his bones wouldn't have anything to do with it. Well...it shouldn't.
Together Nicholas and Anna try to solve the mystery of Nicholas's travel between his world - a place where he is destined to die - and her world, while the fledgling love between them grows.
chapters
chapter 1:
Chapter One
Chapter One
chapter 1
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updated Jun 19, 2008
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Chapter One
As he landed on his side, Nicholas felt the familiar wrench of his shoulder as it slid out of its socket. He bit back a groan at the injury and forced himself to roll to block the inevitable blow to his body. Feeling the wind from a close swipe of his opponent’s sword tousle his hair as the swing barely missed his head, he brought up his own sword with his good arm in time to slice through his opponent’s thin armor. The cut was superficial, but painful enough to need tending and force a temporary reprieve from the fighting. Nicholas took the fleeting opportunity to scramble to his legs in preparation for the next blows.
His breath was ragged and he was bleeding in several areas. The pain of each inhalation was an immediate reminder to himself that his time would soon be up. He was no longer a young man in a young man’s fight. At thirty‐three years old, he was living on borrowed time as most Soldiers did not live past their thirtieth birthday. His limbs felt heavy and he had to acknowledge that today was a good day to die.
The Once‐man facing him showed no signs of slowing, despite the numerous lacerations it had also received. Gritting his teeth, Nicholas charged again, feinting to the left, his opponent’s weakest point he had learned from observation. Taking two short steps, he whirled in a graceful move, his sword reaching for vulnerable flesh where armor‐like skin did not cover. To his surprise, the Once‐man parried and easily side‐stepped his thrust. Overconfident, Nicholas stumbled and was unable to bring about his good arm in time. Nerve endings screamed in protest as he was forced to move the arm attached to a dislocated shoulder to defend himself.
Not enough and too slow.
In horror, he watched the Once‐man drive its sword into his side, almost to the hilt of the blade. Recognizing his grave situation, he gathered himself in time to locate a short scabbard attached to the inside of his arm shield and used it to swipe at the head of the creature. It howled as its ear was cleanly sliced off, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Enraged, its knee came up in an unexpected thrust, planting directly into Nicholas’s abdomen. The wind knocked out of him, he stumbled again, pulling himself from off of the sword. He was gasping now. Darkness was swimming at the periphery of his vision and he raged against the thought of his mortality. He tried once again to lance the Once‐man and, again, it side‐stepped him easily.
_Something was wrong._
His legs were heavy and would barely support him. Despite years of training and experience in battles both won and lost, he was laboring in the effort to even stand. Sweat poured down his head and trickled into his stinging eyes. The suddenness by which he was being overcome brought to his muddied mind the idea that he had been poisoned by a substance placed strategically on the Once‐man’s weapon. He had suffered worse injuries in battle than he currently had and had fared better than he was doing now.
For brief moments more he was able to stand. With each ragged breath he took, however, he felt more deprived of air. His vision would not focus and he could not tell where the Once‐man placed itself. He dropped to one knee and then the other. His sword was on the ground next to him. Nicholas could not remember dropping it. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears and he felt as if his pounding heart would burst out of his chest. He tried to clutch at the sword weakly, but failed in his effort. Frustrated with the circumstances under which he would die, Nicholas screamed into the humid night air, then blackness took him and he knew no more.
Read the rest of this excerpt or purchase the full book now at http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog...
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As he landed on his side, Nicholas felt the familiar wrench of his shoulder as it slid out of its socket. He bit back a groan at the injury and forced himself to roll to block the inevitable blow to his body. Feeling the wind from a close swipe of his opponent’s sword tousle his hair as the swing barely missed his head, he brought up his own sword with his good arm in time to slice through his opponent’s thin armor. The cut was superficial, but painful enough to need tending and force a temporary reprieve from the fighting. Nicholas took the fleeting opportunity to scramble to his legs in preparation for the next blows.
His breath was ragged and he was bleeding in several areas. The pain of each inhalation was an immediate reminder to himself that his time would soon be up. He was no longer a young man in a young man’s fight. At thirty‐three years old, he was living on borrowed time as most Soldiers did not live past their thirtieth birthday. His limbs felt heavy and he had to acknowledge that today was a good day to die.
The Once‐man facing him showed no signs of slowing, despite the numerous lacerations it had also received. Gritting his teeth, Nicholas charged again, feinting to the left, his opponent’s weakest point he had learned from observation. Taking two short steps, he whirled in a graceful move, his sword reaching for vulnerable flesh where armor‐like skin did not cover. To his surprise, the Once‐man parried and easily side‐stepped his thrust. Overconfident, Nicholas stumbled and was unable to bring about his good arm in time. Nerve endings screamed in protest as he was forced to move the arm attached to a dislocated shoulder to defend himself.
Not enough and too slow.
In horror, he watched the Once‐man drive its sword into his side, almost to the hilt of the blade. Recognizing his grave situation, he gathered himself in time to locate a short scabbard attached to the inside of his arm shield and used it to swipe at the head of the creature. It howled as its ear was cleanly sliced off, leaving a bloody trail in its wake. Enraged, its knee came up in an unexpected thrust, planting directly into Nicholas’s abdomen. The wind knocked out of him, he stumbled again, pulling himself from off of the sword. He was gasping now. Darkness was swimming at the periphery of his vision and he raged against the thought of his mortality. He tried once again to lance the Once‐man and, again, it side‐stepped him easily.
_Something was wrong._
His legs were heavy and would barely support him. Despite years of training and experience in battles both won and lost, he was laboring in the effort to even stand. Sweat poured down his head and trickled into his stinging eyes. The suddenness by which he was being overcome brought to his muddied mind the idea that he had been poisoned by a substance placed strategically on the Once‐man’s weapon. He had suffered worse injuries in battle than he currently had and had fared better than he was doing now.
For brief moments more he was able to stand. With each ragged breath he took, however, he felt more deprived of air. His vision would not focus and he could not tell where the Once‐man placed itself. He dropped to one knee and then the other. His sword was on the ground next to him. Nicholas could not remember dropping it. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears and he felt as if his pounding heart would burst out of his chest. He tried to clutch at the sword weakly, but failed in his effort. Frustrated with the circumstances under which he would die, Nicholas screamed into the humid night air, then blackness took him and he knew no more.
Read the rest of this excerpt or purchase the full book now at http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog...
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