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Chapter 96

Two men were coming up the ladder behind the building after him. Omar fired once, twice, and they dropped. He slid down to the ground, rolled to avoid a charge, and drew his sword as he gained his feet. The man who'd charged him rushed him again, but this time Omar was better prepared. He knocked the swing away with his buckler hard enough to throw the other man slightly off balance, and lunged forward, thrusting his sword deep.

Yanking it out, he ran off before more could come and trap him against the building.

Shouts rose up as someone saw him, but Omar kept running for his horse—and screamed as white-hot pain lodged in his shoulder. He kept running, and threw himself onto his horse, biting back another scream of pain. He urged it into motion, keeping as low as he could as they escaped.

Damn it. Whoever had fired that arrow had enough draw to punch through his armor, and his armor wasn't exactly cheap. But it wasn't his good mail or plate, either.

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