Engines of Empire by R. S. Ford

Engines of Empire by R. S. Ford

Author:R. S. Ford [FORD, R. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2022-01-18T00:00:00+00:00


LANCELIN

A balcony jutted from the summit of the Temple of Soth, looking out over the rooftops of Jubara. From behind its alabaster rampart, Lancelin watched the city beneath the dark skyline, its winking lights mirroring the star field above. As much as he hated to admit it, the sight was a beautiful one. It could have rivalled any view of the Anvil, and without the noise and dust of the forges, one might even have said Jubara surpassed it.

Lancelin dismissed the thought. He was a long way from home, and no matter the beauty of this place he knew how much danger he was in. It was a perilous move to become spellbound by aesthetics.

“It’s time.”

Lancelin peered through the dark to see Khonos standing in the shadows of the stairwell. Even in the darkness, the livid bruise surrounding his right eye was visible. He limped forward, cradling his arm gingerly. The riot he’d inspired had come at great cost. Hundreds had taken to the streets. Their diversion had been necessary, but it had taken its toll. Khonos had barely escaped with his life. Many others had not. More still were being interrogated in Jubara’s dungeons, and it would not be long before someone came looking for the man who had instigated the uprising.

“I assume you’ve made arrangements to get out of here?” Lancelin asked.

A wry smile played across Khonos’s lips. “I am not leaving,” he replied.

“They will find you eventually.”

The spy shook his head. “Their interrogations will certainly lead them to Kosma Khonos, high priest to Soth of the Deep. But when they do, he will no longer be here.”

“Where will you hide?”

“Nowhere. Kosma Khonos will cease to exist, but I will have adopted a new life in another part of the city.”

Lancelin would have liked to know more, but it was probably best if he didn’t.

“Good luck,” Lancelin replied, moving to the stairs and making his way down through the tower.

“Your path to the aerie should be clear. The route I gave you winds through the slums. I would have suggested the sewers, but they’re crawling with Medjai looking for more insurrectionists.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lancelin said, though he knew there were no guarantees. “You’ve done enough.”

“I am a servant of Torwyn,” Khonos said. “It will never be enough until our nation is safe from the predilections of its enemies.”

Lancelin noted the fervour with which Khonos spoke. There was an almost religious zeal to the way he had arranged the riot. He had proved his loyalty was beyond question, and Lancelin resisted the temptation to point out how misplaced it was. Torwyn was unsettled, the Guilds fractious, the Draconate powerless, and all of it because of a weak ruler. As much as Lancelin was bound to serve and protect Sullivar, he could not help but think Torwyn would thrive under a stronger leader.

He made his way into the temple and down the secret entrance leading to the cellar. Candles were lit, casting a flickering yellow light on the walls, not that its occupant would appreciate the gesture.



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