by Sam Sykes
“These two will do,” one of the soldiers said. He wore the dark blue of the Adran army, with two golden service stripes on his chest and a silver medal that indicated he’d served the crown overseas. He began to loosen his belt and stepped toward Nila.
Nila grabbed the hot iron from the stove and hit him hard across the face. He went down, to the shouts of his comrades.
Someone grabbed her arms, another her legs.
“Feisty,” one said.
“That will leave a mark,” said another.
“What is the meaning of this!” Ganny had finally gotten to her feet. “Do you know whose house this is?”
“Shut up.” The soldier Nila had hit climbed to his feet, a swollen burn covering half of his face. He punched Ganny hard in the stomach. “We’ll get to you soon enough.” He turned to Nila.
Nila struggled against hands too strong for her. She turned to the washbasin, hoping Jakob would not see this, and closed her eyes to wait for the blow.
“Heathlo!” a voice barked.
She opened her eyes again when the hands that held her suddenly let up.
“What the pit you doing, soldier?” The man who spoke wore the same uniform as the others, only set apart by a gold triangle pinned to his silver lapel. He had sandy hair and a neatly trimmed beard. A cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth. Nila had never seen a soldier with a beard before.
“Just having some fun, Sergeant.” Heathlo gave Nila a menacing glare and turned toward the sergeant.
“Fun? No fun for us, soldier. This is the army. You heard the field marshal’s orders.”
“But, Sergeant…”
The sergeant leaned over and picked up the iron from where it lay on the floor. He looked at the bottom, then at the burn on the soldier’s face. “You want me to give you a matching one on the other side?”
Heathlo’s eyes hardened. “This bitch struck me.”
“I’ll hit you somewhere prettier than your face next time I see you try to rape an Adran citizen.” The sergeant pointed his cigarette at Heathlo. “This isn’t Gurla.”
“I’ll report this to the captain, sir,” Heathlo sneered.
The sergeant shrugged.
“Heathlo,” one of the other soldiers said. “Don’t push him. Sorry, Sergeant, he’s new to the company and all.”
“Keep him in line,” the sergeant said. “He’s new, but I expect better from you two.” He helped Ganny to her feet, then touched his finger to his forehead toward Nila. “Ma’am. We’re looking for Duke Eldaminse’s son.”
Ganny looked at Nila. Nila could tell she was terrified. “He was with you,” the governess said.
Nila forced herself to look into the sergeant’s blue eyes. “I just carried him up to bed.”
“Go on,” the sergeant said to his soldiers. “Find him.” They left the room quickly. He remained and gave a slow look around the kitchen. “He’s not in his bed.”
“He has a habit of wandering,” Nila said. “I just put him to bed, but I’m sure he was scared by the noise. What is happening?” This was no accident. Those soldiers knew exactly whose house this was. The sergeant had mentioned a field marshal. Adro only had one man of that rank: Field Marshal Tamas.
“Duke Eldaminse and his family are under arrest for treason,” the sergeant said.
Ganny blanched and looked as if she might faint.
Nila felt her stomach tighten. Treason. Accusations like that would see the whole staff put to the question. There was no escape. She’d heard a story once of an archduke, the Iron King’s own cousin, who plotted against the throne. His family and every member of his staff had been sent to the guillotine.
“You’re free to go,” the sergeant said. “We’re only here for the duke and his family.” He stepped toward the washbasin, frowning. “You’ll want to find new employment. In fact, if you can, you should leave the city for at least a few days.” He put the cigarette between his lips and lifted a pair of trousers from the top of the washbasin.
“Olem!”
The sergeant turned his head as another soldier entered the room.
“They find the boy?” Olem said, the washbasin forgotten.
“No, but a summons came for you. From the field marshal.”
“For me?” Olem sounded doubtful.
“Report to Commander Sabon immediately.”
“All right,” Olem said. He crushed his cigarette out on the kitchen table. “Keep an eye on Heathlo. Don’t let him rough up any of the women. If you have to give the boys an armful of loot to keep ’em occupied, do it.”
“But our orders—”
“The boys will break some of our orders one way or another. I’d rather they break the ones that won’t see them hanged.”
“Right.”
Olem took one last look around the kitchen. “Get any valuables you have here and leave,” he said. “The duke won’t be coming back for anything, either…” He touched his forehead toward Ganny and Nila before leaving.
So take what you want. Nila finished the sentence in her head.
Ganny gave Nila one quick look before she ran into the hallway. Nila could hear her feet on the servants’ stairs a moment later.
Nila fished the butler’s key from its hiding place above the mantel and unlocked the silverware cabinet. Nothing she had hidden under her mattress upstairs was worth a fraction of the silver she now piled into a burlap bag.
She waited until she couldn’t hear any of the soldiers in the hallway and pulled Jakob from the washbasin. She helped him pull his nightclothes over his head and handed him a pair of dirty trousers and a shirt from one of the serving boys. They’d be too big, but they’d do.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
“Taking you someplace safe.”
“What about Miss Ganny?”
“I think she’s gone for good,” Nila said.
“Mother and father?”
“I don’t know,” Nila said. “They’ll want you to come with me, I think.” She took a handful of cool ashes from the corner of the fireplace and mixed them in her palm with water. “Hold still,” she said, smearing the ashes in his hair and on his face. She took his hand, and with a sack full of pilfered silver over her shoulder, Nila headed out the back entrance.
Two soldiers watched the alley behind the townhouse. Nila walked toward them, head down.
“You there,” one of the men said. “Whose child is this?”
“Mine,” Nila said.
The soldier lifted Jakob’s chin. “Doesn’t look like a duke’s son.”
“Should we hold him till we find the boy?” the other said.
“Sergeant Olem said we could go,” Nila said.
“Fine,” the soldier said. “Off with you, then. We’ve a busy night.”
BY SAM SYKES
BRING DOWN HEAVEN
The City Stained Red
The Mortal Tally (coming 2015)
AEONS’ GATE
Tome of the Undergates
Black Halo
Skybound Sea
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Contents
COVER
TITLE PAGE
WELCOME
MAP
ACT ONE: THE HUMAN TIDE PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE: AN ARCHITECT OF BONE AND MARROW
CHAPTER TWO: VERBAL DISEASES
CHAPTER THREE: TO FLOW, AS THE RIVER
CHAPTER FOUR: UNTO HEAVEN
CHAPTER FIVE: THE CAULDRON
CHAPTER SIX: THE SERPENT AND THE POET
CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BRASS LADY
CHAPTER EIGHT: NATIVES
CHAPTER NINE: GLORY TO GOD
CHA
PTER TEN: RARE MEAT
CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE DISCIPLE
CHAPTER TWELVE: PAGES IN THE BOOK
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SYMPHONIES FOR DEAD MEN
ACT TWO: THE CIVILIZED PREDATOR CHAPTER FOURTEEN: LEFT A BLADE
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: HIGH SOCIETY
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: PREY
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ACCORD
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: HOUSES FOR THE COMMON MAN
CHAPTER NINETEEN: CIVIL MEN WITH CIVIL NEEDS
CHAPTER TWENTY: COMPANY MEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: SCENT OF GOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: THE SUN AND ALL ITS CHILDREN
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: GENTLE NUDGES
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: ASSASSINS
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: SHARED BLOOD
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE LADY AND THE ROGUE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE LOW ROAD
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: AND HER
ACT THREE: A GOLD COFFIN FOR A POOR MAN CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: BAIT FOR A TWO-LEGGED FISH
CHAPTER THIRTY: TRUST THE NAKED PEOPLE
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: RICH MEN AND THEIR DREAMS
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: GILDED GOBLETS OVERFLOWING
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: THROUGH GILDED VEIN
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: VERSES IN OIL AND ASH
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: TALLIES
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: MACHINATE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: SIX COFFINS, NEATLY ROWED
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: TRUE NAMES
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: A HEAVEN OF HIS OWN DESIGN
CHAPTER FORTY: THE BREATHS BETWEEN
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: SHICT
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: THE COMMON COLLECTORS OF MAN
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: SCRAPS FOR THE HOUNDS
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: THE FASHA AND THE FOOL
EPILOGUE: YOUNG MAN
EXTRAS
MEET THE AUTHOR
A PREVIEW OF THE BLACK PRISM
A PREVIEW OF PROMISE OF BLOOD
BY SAM SYKES
ORBIT NEWSLETTER
COPYRIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Sam Sykes
Excerpt from The Black Prism copyright © 2010 by Brent Weeks
Excerpt from Promise of Blood copyright © 2013 by Brian McClellan
Map by Lee Moyer
Cover design by Lauren Panepinto
Cover photos © Arcangel, © Shutterstock
Cover © 2014 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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First ebook edition: October 2014
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ISBN 978-0-316-37486-6
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