The New Kingdom (UK) by Wilbur Smith

Author:Wilbur Smith [Smith, Wilbur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bonnier Publishing Fiction
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

‘Raise your cups high! Here are two new brothers! Welcome them into our tribe, the Tribe of the Shrikes!’

Basti the Cruel’s voice boomed across the drunken bandits. They roared their approval, slopping beer as they thrust their cups towards the night sky.

Hui’s face bloomed from the heat of the roaring campfire. His eyes stung from the acrid smoke, his nose wrinkling at the greasy sourness of the fish stew bubbling in the cauldron. One day later, he still felt numb. He had never thought killing a man could be so hard. But he’d done what he needed to do. There had been no other choice. And for all the misery it had caused him, Hui had learned another lesson that would serve him well in days to come. He would never shrink from killing someone again.

Fareed stood beside him, the honey light of the fire dancing in his black eyes. He showed no emotion.

Once the Shrikes had swarmed out of the looted farmstead, the flames licking up into the night from the fire that had been lit in the kitchen, word had travelled amongst the bandits of Hui’s dispatch of the farmer, and the torture he must have inflicted to discover the location of the treasure. They had cheered his name.

And when they’d finally trekked back to this new camp tucked in a rocky crevass in the hills, Basti’s face had glowed with pride when he’d heard of Hui’s success. Pride not for Hui, but for himself: that he’d been such a wise leader, he’d seen Hui’s attributes the moment he’d walked into the camp.

Hui stared at the Shrike lord’s face, seeing the map of cruelty in every line, in the turn of the mouth, in the pitiless eyes. He imagined slashing the bandit chieftain’s throat with his knife in revenge for Kyky’s death, as he had killed the merchant. One slash – so simple. He’d never thought he would have found it in him to kill this raptor. Now he knew otherwise. He was capable of anything.

But Hui needed Basti – that was his calculation. One day, though . . . One day . . .

The Shrike lord raised his right hand and flexed his fingers to beckon the two new recruits forward.

Hui strode through a swirl of sparks to stand in front of Basti. Fareed followed a step behind. The chieftain raised his right hand, palm out, indicating that Hui and Fareed should do the same. Once they’d followed his command, he lashed out with his curved knife twice. The blade sliced across their palms.

Hui felt the pain lance up his arm, but he held his trembling hand in place. He could not afford to show weakness. The blood dripped down his palm and splashed on the hard ground.

Basti held his gaze, a tight smile on his lips, watching to see how Hui responded. He nodded and held a cup under Hui’s hand, and then Fareed’s. Once the blood had drained into it, he swirled it around and tossed the gore into the flames, where it sizzled and spat.

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