Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1) by Ward Matthew

Author:Ward, Matthew [Ward, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Tower of Stars
Published: 2013-12-30T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty Three

I don't think anyone ever crossed the city as fast as Constans, Jamar and I did that morning. We ran with abandon, careless of patrols and praetorians, hurtling pell-mell down cobbled alleys and flagstoned streets. Such was our pace, each of us should have fallen a dozen times, but somehow we didn't. It is said that desperation lends men wings, and perhaps it's true, for never before had I known the desperation possessing me that day.

After a seeming eternity we ran through the Tower of Stars' gatehouse and into the aftermath of a battle. Dozens of bodies lay in the courtyard, weapons clasped in dead or dying hands. From appearances, they were an even mixture of praetorians, street toughs and Thrakkian mercenaries – the latter looking out of place with their plaited beards and studded leathers.

Oddly, each of the dead had pieces of bone strung around their necks. Some gruesome badge of identification?

Grey fragments lay scattered amongst the dead, but it wasn't until I nearly tripped over an unmoving stone torso did I understand the significance. As best as I could tell, there were the remains of three sentinels, their bodies presumably smashed apart by the long-handled warhammers still clasped in the attackers' lifeless hands. For each sentinel who had fallen, at least a dozen men lay dead, but that the tower's defenders had put up such formidable resistance was of little comfort to me.

I was consumed with need to get inside the tower proper, to discover what fate had befallen Arianwyn. That task was complicated by three praetorians arrayed on the stairway to the keep. The mood I was in, I could have killed them single-handedly without pause for breath.

I drew my sword and quickened my pace, aware that Constans and Jamar had done the same.

We were still twenty paces short of the keep when the trap was sprung. A score of living warriors sprang up around us, kicking corpses to one side as they got to their feet.

My companions and I came to a reluctant halt, knowing we couldn't reach the keep before our attackers were on us. Even as I watched, three Thrakkians joined the praetorians on the steps.

Jamar's face was implacable, his eyes missing nothing of our predicament. By contrast, Constans' visage twisted into a hateful rictus, an expression so out of place on his features that I was momentarily taken aback. Without a word, we shifted position until we stood back-to-back.

The circle of Solomon's soldiers tightened, but cautiously. Apparently no one wanted to be the first to test our mettle.

"We need to get into the tower," I said.

"Actually, we don't," Jamar replied calmly.

Frowning, I watched him discard his sword, stoop, and pluck a mace from the ground. It was a clumsy weapon, with a haft nearly as tall as I. Jamar spun it through the air as if it weighed nothing.

"We don't need to get into the tower," he said simply, "but you do." I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.

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