3.5-Road Brothers by Mark Lawrence

Author:Mark Lawrence [Lawrence, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-13T16:00:00+00:00

Dawn found Gorlan shivering in the blanket they’d left him. He got up in the first grey light, mist coiling about his ankles, and began to follow the trail the pair had left behind them. Even in the gloom and mist the marks of hooves on soft turf weren’t difficult to spot.

He walked on, hardly caring that any stray step might see him blown apart by fires from beneath the ground. Sir Makin had haunted his dreams for the better part of a year. Always drawing closer – reported here, reported there – a trail of dead men in his wake, each death more ghastly than the one before. And now … Gorlan felt himself reborn. He’d regretted attacking the manor almost as soon as they rode out of the vale. His father had told him to convince Makin Bortha to leave. Somehow it had got out of hand, and quickly. He hadn’t got off his horse but it was his spear that impaled the wife. A red day – but one that had finally ended.

The sun showed bloody on the hills to the east and the mist drew back as if inhaled. The ground grew dry and stony, gorse bushes encroaching on the moorland. Gorlan had to look harder for the hoofmarks, bending to study each patch of grass.

“Hello.” A knife blade slipped under his chin, a hand to the back of his head.

“Wait!” Gorlan held deathly still. It had been a woman’s voice, mouth close to his ear. “He said he wouldn’t-”

“Ah, men say a lot of things, especially high-borns. The nuns used to like to talk everything through six ways before breaking fast too. We weren’t a silent order, more’s the pity. Over-thinking I call it.”

“Please don’t.” The blade rested icy against his neck. “Your mother-”

“I didn’t hunt you for her!” She laughed. “The thing is – you were very difficult to find, Gorlan. I’ve ridden a thousand miles finding you and your friends, and I didn’t much enjoy it.” Fingers tightened in Gorlan’s hair. “Now one of these days that good man is going to say, ‘I’ve changed my mind. Fetch Ellen to me. We’re going to track down that Gorlan and kill him proper this time.’”

“You’ll never hear my name again. I swear it. By my mother’s-”

Ellen jerked her arm and pressed hard against Gorlan’s head. Ice turned to fire and warmth flooded his chest.

“And I’ll say, ‘I can save you a trip, good sir, because I absolved the young man of his sins that first morning.’” Ellen let Gorlan fall to the hard earth. “Besides, it doesn’t do to call on your ma when dealing with a woman whose own mother you put in the grave. You stole that particular bit of revenge from me, and theft is a sin. A deadly one in this case.”

Gorlan felt no pain, only sorrow, his limbs seeming to float, the voice growing distant.

“I do miss her soups though. Having found you I would have slit your throat just for that.

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