Nomad Mortis: Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8
Nomad Mortis – SNIPPET 03
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8
by Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle
Cory jumped back in. “So it’s settled. Joseph and I will talk with the next Forsaken before you whip out your blade,” she said accusingly. Terry was instantly angry. Cory hadn’t seen what he’d gone through at Kirkus’s hands, what the Forsaken had done to the survivors of Cheyenne Mountain.
Terry’s daughter was a pure heart, a pure soul. He couldn’t stay angry with her for long.
Joseph played with the blade at his side. Akio had originally intended to give the Mameluke, a Marine officer’s sword to Terry Henry, but decided to give it to Joseph after the Forsaken’s actions within Mammoth Cave. Terry was okay with that as he preferred the shorter cavalry blade. It didn’t catch on as much of his other gear as a longer blade would, even though there was a certain attraction to carrying a Marine’s sword.
Joseph caught Terry looking at it. He slid the sword free of its stainless steel scabbard and handed it, pommel-first to the colonel.
Terry took it, turning it over in his hands. He looked down its edge, appreciating the coloring that only Damascus blades had. He checked the edge with a thumb. Joseph was keeping it well-honed. Terry smiled appreciatively. It was engraved. “United States Marine Corps” with filigree etched lightly in the surface.
“Take care of that. It’s one of the best that the world has to offer,” Terry stated.
“Trade you? I’m not a big sword guy,” Joseph offered.
“But mine fits better with my gear,” Terry replied.
“Wear it across your back and be done with it. You know you want it.” Joseph started undoing the scabbard. He replaced the sword and held it out to Terry while pointing at the cavalry sword.
“Are you ever going to fight someone using your sword?” Terry asked.
“You know me. What do you think?” Joseph quipped. No, Joseph was never going to start a sword fight.
“Since you’re not going to use it,” Terry replied, quickly undoing his belt and removing the shorter sword. He handed it over and took the Mameluke almost reverently.
Akio had been right when he thought that Terry would fall in love with the sword. Terry carried it in his left hand, grip forward for a quick and easy pull. He shook Joseph’s hand.
Cory put her fists on her hips and glared. When Terry finally noticed her, he knew he was in trouble.
“What?” It wasn’t really a question. Thirty years with Cory’s mother, and he knew the stance well. “I’m sorry, Cory. I didn’t mean it, and I won’t do it again. Honestly!”
“Didn’t mean what?” she asked through pursed lips. His preemptive generic apology had fallen flat. He shook his head and held up one hand in surrender.
“You hijacked my conversation with your drinking buddy!” She declared, stomping one foot and crossing her arms.
“I thought we were done. You and Joseph tell the Forsaken that they should trust me before I kill them.”
“Is that all you heard? You are impossible!” Cory stormed away.
“That’s what I heard,” Joseph whispered.
“I heard that!” Cory yelled over her shoulder.
To discover more about Craig Martelle and his life in the 49th state: http://www.craigmartelle.com