02 - Tower Lord by Anthony Ryan

Author:Anthony Ryan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Adult, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780425265628
Publisher: Ace Hardcover
Published: 2014-07-01T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Frentis

Agony erupted as the knife sank into his flesh, instantly spreading to seize his entire body. He heard screams he knew were his own as his legs gave way. It was like being squeezed by a fist made of a million jagged steel points, the pain so intense he felt his reason slipping away, memory fading amidst the torment. Vaelin, the Order, the woman . . . the King’s eyes just before he killed him, the brightness of them—a man finding relief from guilt. Far away there were more screams, a great heat filling the air, but it was so dull, beyond the wall of pain that surrounded him. He retained sufficient reason for one more thought: At least I won’t live to suffer the guilt.

Then it changed, the agony born of the knife blade shifted as it met something, an echo of a previous pain, a seed, stunted, prevented from growing, now given new life. The seed will grow . . . The steel-point grip faded, replaced by something worse, a burning, a searing fire ripping through him, covering his skin, finding his scars. It reached a crescendo then, the pattern of scars covering his torso flaring with a force greater than any he had known before . . . Then it was gone. All the pain, gone in an instant . . . along with the binding.

Air escaped him in a rush as he rolled on the floor, the sensation of freedom overwhelming. His hands found his chest, searching for the scars, finding only smooth flesh. They were gone, healed and disappeared. No scars, no binding. I can move. I CAN MOVE!

He began to rise then grunted as a fresh pain gripped his side where the princess’s knife was still embedded. An Order knife, he thought in wonder, tugging it free. The cut was bad, bleeding freely, but not fatal. He surged to his feet, finding himself standing amidst an inferno. Blackened and burning bodies lay everywhere, flame and smoke covered the walls, the King’s corpse lying before him, dead eyes open, meeting his own.

A shout to his left dragged his gaze away, finding the woman, flame streaming from her hands towards the prone form of Princess Lyrna. For an instant it caught her hair, her face, raising a scream of terror and agony. “No,” the woman said, stilling her flames, stumbling towards Lyrna, blood dripping from her face. “Too quick. You I’ll have raped every day for a year. You I’ll have cut, one piece at a time. You I’ll ha—”

The pole-axe blade slammed into her back and erupted from her chest. Her back arched as blood fountained from her mouth. She hung there for a moment, head lolling to the side, her eyes finding his face. “Beloved,” she said, showing red teeth in a smile of complete devotion. Frentis twisted the blade and watched the light fade from her eyes.

More screams from the princess as she found the strength to rise, her hands scrabbling at her face and hair as they beat down the flames.

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