Chapter 109
neck. His snakeblade snagged on gristle. A practiced flick of his wrist, a small grunt of effort, and the spinal cord surrendered. A little blood pooled sluggishly, thickened now, with no beating heart to pump it freely. I am sorry, Lilit. She had to die. His stallion was too well trained to pull away, flattened black ears were its only protest as he tied the head to his saddle and prepared to remount. A small noise stopped him, breathy, shocked. He looked around. He and the horse stood at the entrance to the elder’s dwelling. Behind them, six dead dogs and four hacked bodies, two men, two women. They’d perished trying to protect the elder. One severed hand still clutched a kitchen knife, scant protection against the gods’s warlord. No more sound from those slashed throats, no cries of p
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