"You can hurt after you survive. You can't survive if you stop to hurt."
***
He couldn't spare the breath to answer Petra.
His chest burned with each inhale. Something felt wrong on his right side. Cracked ribs, probably. Maybe worse.
He pushed the pain aside and focused on the hobgoblins.
They'd repositioned while he was recovering. One on each side of the narrow passage now. They'd used his momentary weakness to set up the perfect kill zone.
The injured one feinted left while its partner attacked from the right. A simple maneuver. The kind of thing Rhys had drilled against since he was old enough to hold a spear. He read the move and shifted to counter. Angled his weapon to block the real attack.
But the feint turned into a real attack at the last second.
The axe handle slammed into his ribs with the force of a battering ram.
He heard something crack inside his chest.
