Tyrant's Throne by Sebastien De Castell

Author:Sebastien De Castell [Castell, Sebastien De]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Publisher: Quercus
Published: 2017-04-12T13:59:03+00:00

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

The Reunion

The southern passes between the eastern border of Avares and my own home Duchy of Pertine felt longer and more treacherous than I’d expected, and yet it couldn’t have been more than fifty miles. I’d spent my childhood on one side of those mountains, listening to stories mangled through repetition about the barbarians on the other side, never really understanding just how close they were to us.

We stayed well away from any populated areas, heeding Gwyn’s warning that the Avareans had a system for alerting their settlements about invaders: smoke fires that could be lit to signal across the mountains in case of attempted enemy incursion. I didn’t think our little party really qualified, but I also didn’t want anyone sending word of our passing up or down the chain to where it might reach the Magdan.

When our food ran out, Brasti and Gwyn set about hunting, trapping just enough to keep us from starving. The Rangieri considered the quantity of game more than sufficient, but it wasn’t long before the rest of us took to discussing the foods we missed the most and what our first proper meal would be the moment we set foot back in a civilised country. But by the time we’d entered Pertine and bought extra horses to speed our trip back to Aramor, we were seeing the hunger and deprivation all around us. We stopped talking altogether after that.

It was almost a relief to find ourselves periodically set upon by brigands. As it happened, the roads were filthy with them, and Kest, Brasti and I quickly slipped into our more normal roles, scaring our enemies off when we could, killing them only when they gave us no other choice. Gwyn turned out to be an effective fighter. He could make all sorts of wooden weapons with that great big knife of his, and he used them to good effect in close combat. Now he was fit again, his sling proved to be a remarkably capable weapon for distance work.

At first I wondered why anyone would take the risk of attacking us. It was clear enough we weren’t carrying trade goods and certainly didn’t look wealthy enough to have much coin. The answer, it turned out, was that the brigands weren’t interested in us at all: it was the horses they wanted – and not for riding.

Tristians don’t eat horseflesh, not as a rule, but clearly times had changed. The conspiracies, endless battles and betrayals and finally, the loss of their deities had proved to be one too many blows for anyone to endure. I doubted the people in these parts cared anything for Greatcoats or laws or who should sit the Tristian throne, they just wanted food and an end to year after year of things getting worse. If they’d had a choice between Patriana or King Paelis, I don’t think they’d have hesitated for one second; it was beginning to look like Patriana would have been a hugely popular Queen.

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