The question was – why indeed was he smiling? Ridley wondered. What man could smile such a triumphant smile, when he was as close to the edge as Vol was? This slight push, and it was all done, Ridley was sure of it. There was no coming back for Vol. Not anymore. Based on how much he'd given to the gold mercenaries that Ridley had already sent his way, this would be more than enough to send Vol flying that last distance.
And yet it wasn't.
Ridley didn't know quite what happened. Only that, all of a sudden, that was a jolt, like hitting a brick wall, and in the same instant, all the air rushed from his lungs, leaving him winded. The sword that he'd pointed towards Vol's heart had been brushed aside, over Vol's shoulder, leaving a cut along his ear, but failing to claim the life that Ridley had sought.
Then there was that tightness about his throat, that was only increasing. And a face that he'd never wished to see so close.
