Gull collars the assassin in Ch 12/Sc 3 of RAGING SEA by @KimHeadlee #amwriting

Graphic overlay c2016 by Kim Headlee.

While my daughter is off visiting her boyfriend for his college graduation (congratulations, Ethan! :) and Balticon, and the house has calmed back down to its usual dull roar, I am going to sneak in some more writing on Raging Sea.

But before I dive in, I thought I'd better get this post up. :D

Today for your reading pleasure, Angusel's father Gull runs a would-be assassin to ground.

Previous excerpts of Raging Sea 
Chapters 1–6 in Raging Sea: Reckonings

 Chapter 7: Sc 1 | Sc 2 | Sc 3 | Sc 4 | Sc 5a | Sc 5b |
Chapter 8: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 9: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 1d | Sc 1e |
Chapter 10: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 2a | Sc 2b | Sc 3a | Sc 3b | Sc 3c |
Chapter 11: Sc 1a |  Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 2 | Sc 3a | Sc 3b |
Chapter 12: Sc 1a | Sc 1b | Sc 1c | Sc 2 |

Raging Sea Chapter 12, Scene 3

©2016 by Kim Headlee

All rights reserved.

He’d pay for this exertion later, of course, but running down the assassin proved easier than Gull thought it would be. Aye, the man had led him and a gaggle of soldiers on a fine chase through the back alleys and twisted passageways of the port’s seedier environs, having to abandon the rooftops when he outran his cover from the soldiers’ spears and arrows.

What the assassin—or the soldiers, for that matter—didn’t know was that Gull could be harder to shake than the killing pox, and just as deadly.

With a burst of speed and a powerful lunge, he collared the assassin and dragged him to the ground. Battle rage drove his fists and feet to pummel the man into submission until the soldiers arrived.

“Halt, sir!” Gull stopped midswing, panting hard, and turned to look at the decurion who had issued the order. “We need him alive for questioning.” The officer’s firm tone carried an apologetic note.

A glance at the captive revealed the bloody, bruised face, his eyes beginning to swell shut. Gull shook his head to clear it of battle frenzy and lowered his fist. It already had begun to ache, and he shook it too, trying to make sense of his reactions. He was a master warrior; he should have subdued the assassin without resorting to crude, mindless violence.

And yet, committing mindless violence against the assailant was all that leaped to mind at the thought of the Lady Morghe getting wounded by this cù-puc.

He shook his head again.

“Sir? Are you all right?” asked the decurion as his men secured the captive for the march to the fortress.

Gull reassured the officer with a grin. “Nae thing that a stiff draught or three won’t cure, lad.”

He hoped.

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