Weapon of Fear (Weapon of Flesh Trilogy II Book 1) by Chris A. Jackson

Author:Chris A. Jackson [Jackson, Chris A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure, Fantasy, Romance, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Amazon: B013YJFDL4
Publisher: Jaxbooks
Published: 2015-08-13T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter XIII

Arbuckle stepped from his bedchamber into the sitting room as and immediately felt cramped by the press of people. Ten imperial guards and an armored knight snapped to attention. Ithross had insisted on the increased security, determined that the loss of the blademasters wouldn’t put his sovereign at risk. The captain had chosen the guards not only for their loyalty, but also for their lack of familial ties.

“Loved ones can be used for coercion, Milord Prince,” Ithross had said in explaining his choices. “Even the most loyal guard might succumb when given the choice between their child’s life and yours.”

Arbuckle appreciated the sentiment, but felt overwhelmed. As long as they keep me breathing…

Unfortunately, more guards meant many disturbances—a sniffle here, the creak of armor there. The guards weren’t as unobtrusive as blademasters. Consequently, Arbuckle had begun using his bedchamber for meals and solitary work. It was the only place where Ithross allowed him to be alone.

“What’s on the agenda this morning, Tennison?”

“No audiences until after lunch, milord. Just these reports from Lord MalEnthal.” Tennison handed him a sheaf of papers. “His reviews of the cases you sent him.

“Excellent! I’ll see to these first thing.” A pen scratched behind him, and Arbuckle turned to find Verul sitting with his ledger instead of Renquis. “Verul! I’m pleased to have you back, my good man! You’ve straightened out the archives then, have you?”

“Pleased to be back, milord, and no, not quite yet. It’s a catastrophe, if you don’t mind my saying. It’ll take some time to straighten out properly, but we’re well on the way.”

“As long as we’re making progress, I’m pleased.” Despite the potential embarrassment of his every word being recorded for posterity, Arbuckle wanted future scholars to be able to trust that the material they were reading was accurate.

What will history make of my father? he wondered as he returned to his bedchamber. Forty years of lies in the archives, with no way to determine the veracity of any of it. A legacy of lies…

I won’t be like him, Arbuckle vowed. If I survive long enough…

Banishing his maudlin thoughts, Arbuckle settled down to his reading. The work progressed quickly. MalEnthal’s reviews were spot on. Without exception, their judgments concurred. Unlawful assembly, disorderly behavior, looting, and minor destruction of property comprised the majority of charges. He rubbed his eyes before starting in on the last case.

“Arson?”

That dispelled his fatigue. Any fire in a city like Tsing could be disastrous. Many of the nobles’ homes were stone-built, but most of the city was constructed of wooden buildings that would flare up like bonfires. Arbuckle didn’t even want to think of what might happen if the Wharf District or the shipyards caught fire. With the Night of Flame still painfully on his conscience, he flipped the page to read the case.

There was a piece of paper inserted with a note.

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