The Alaunt (The Shaanti Book 2) by Neil Beynon

Author:Neil Beynon [Beynon, Neil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hanesyn Ltd.
Published: 2020-09-16T04:00:00+00:00

‘I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.’

Montu did not turn round to look at who had the stupidity to enter his tent while he was in his current mood. He held his sword, still sheathed, in his hands. He should rest. He needed to understand how the old Shaanti warrior had bested him. No one had beaten him in years. He clenched the sheathed weapon. Fury, that was the name of the man’s sword. Yet his fury wasn’t for the Alaunt. It was for his father. The king’s decision to humiliate him in front of his men burned through him, making his shoulders and neck ache and his stomach churn. He could see Cernubus in his mind’s eye, a smug grin on his inked face as he reminded Montu that he’d told him so. He’s my father.

Whoever was standing in the tent’s entrance hadn’t moved.

‘I said, fuck off,’ said Montu. ‘Unless you want to find yourself on the end of a rope.’

‘That rule doesn’t apply to your king,’ said the king from the entrance to Montu’s tent.

The prince stiffened. I could do it now. I can throw Polestar from here, and no guard could save him. He forced himself to exhale. A blow made in anger might easily be reversed on the warrior who had made such a move. Montu placed the sword on its stand. He did not turn round.

The king stepped into the tent proper.

‘You’re lucky I am also your father,’ said the king. ‘Or you might stretch one of those ropes you’re so fond of using.’

Montu turned, satisfied that his face was under control. ‘You would not have found a man amongst those there today who would have turned on me.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you command a lot of loyalty with your talk of Kurah glory and honour, but I’m not sure you know what it means.’

Montu glared at his father. ‘You will lecture me on Kurah honour?’

The king smiled.

‘You seem to think we base honour on the number of wars we have fought and won rather than the number of years of peace.’

Montu rubbed his forehead. This was an old argument. ‘Peace is finite if your enemies see you as weak. We had a bumper harvest last year; we continue to make the best steel on the continent. The Tinaric see this.’

The king raised his hands. ‘Learn from the mistakes of my father. Don’t repeat them.’

Montu jumped to his feet. He shouted, ‘The only mistake he made was using that damned priest instead of his own wit!’

The king was not smiling now. He stepped close to Montu so that the prince could smell the oil from his beard and was fully aware the king was still a good foot taller than him, as if that made any difference. Montu knew he could outfight him with or without a blade. The Kurah king, his father, was not an accomplished fighter.

‘You did not know my father,’ said the king. ‘You are in love with an idea. He was not a nice man.

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