Of Blood And Fire Ryan Cahill (nice books to read .txt) 📖

in the red cape, Rendall, scowled at Vars for talking out of turn. “I am an imperial inquisitor, sent from Al’Nasla. You got yourself into a bit of trouble last night, didn’t you?” He paused for a moment, not to let Calen speak but to let him stew in his own fear. And fear did grip him; the inquisitors were just scary stories. They did not truly exist. Then again, neither did giants. “What was it he did, Farda? Interrupted imperial questioning, disobeyed a direct order – oh, and what else was it? That’s right – murdered an imperial soldier.”

A wave of shock rang through the crowd. The commotion burbled with hushed whispers and exasperated sighs. An accusation like that was far from commonplace in The Glade. It was far from commonplace anywhere, Calen reckoned.

Every hair on Calen’s body stood on end at the sight of his mother’s face. Freis’s eyes were swelling pools of loss. “Calen… I…” She stumbled over her own words.

“Son, is this true?” Vars’s voice did not waver, his eyes fixed on Calen.

“Excuse me, blacksmith. Are you calling me a liar?” Rendall asked. “Your son attacked my men, in aid of wanted murderers. In doing so, he took the life of at least one young initiate. Oren Harstead – correct, Farda?”

Wanted murderers? Is that what Erik is? And Aeson? and Dahlen? A knot twisted in Calen’s stomach. The taller man nodded, an amused grin on his face. Like a kat watching two rabbits fight. Calen wanted to speak, but he was not sure what he could say. He killed that man. He watched the light fade from his eyes…

“Now,” Rendall said, “I am in a good mood today, and as I said, I consider myself a fair man. If you lead us to these murderers, then I will grant you amnesty for your misguided acts, for that is the generous man I am. But if you refuse, I will have no choice but to seek the emperor’s justice in claim of your crimes.”

Calen heard gasps from the crowd. His father’s face was set into a hard stare.

“What… what is the emperor’s justice?” Calen asked. He had a feeling he already knew. A weightlessness entered his stomach.

His mother sobbed. “Please…”

Rendall glared at Freis.

“The emperor’s justice is true justice; an eye for an eye, a life for a life,” Rendall said, his tone level. “Now, if you will kindly tell me what I need to know, then we can be on our way.” Rendall raised his eyebrows, opening his arms out to the air. Calen had no idea what to do. On one hand, he had no doubts that whatever Rendall would do if he found Aeson, Erik, and Dahlen would not be pleasant. On the other hand, he didn’t even really know them. Were they murderers? They had certainly killed men… he watched them do it. But so had he… was he a murderer?

“I….”

“Spit it out, boy!” Rendall snapped. Cracks spread through his falsely charming demeanour. Calen felt the tension building in the gathered crowd. Everybody was on edge. His mother still sobbed softly, his father’s arm around her shoulder. Vars’s glare burned through the side of Rendall’s head.

“I… I don’t know where they are. I left them in Ölm Forest.” Calen tried desperately not to vomit as his stomach twisted in on itself. “I swear.”

Rendall’s face twitched in irritation. “You see, boy. Like father, like son.” In a slow, steady motion, Rendall placed his helmet back onto his head. “It must be hereditary, because I just don’t believe either of you.” Rendall looked towards Farda, who flipped his coin high into the air, letting it fall perfectly into his open palm. Farda glanced at the coin and nodded to Rendall.

Rendall sighed. “It is a pity to take a life before the sun has even risen to its fullest, but these are the things that must be done.” The wicked smile that touched his lips betrayed his words. Calen had a feeling the man delighted in taking a life, no matter where the sun sat.

A din of disgruntled noise spread through the crowd. The soldiers in the circle turned to face the gathered crowd, which had grown significantly since Calen had first arrived.

“Back! Get back, or there will be more than one dying this morning!” one of the soldiers shouted.

Rendall’s grip tightened on the handle of his sword as he stepped towards Calen.

Sobbing, Freis threw herself towards Rendall. “Please, leave him be. He is just a child! This is all a misunderstanding! I—”

Rendall caught Freis with the same vicious backhand that he had given Vars, sending her spiralling to the ground with a scream. “Know your place, woman!” Rendall scoffed, spitting on the ground. Vars roared and lunged at Rendall, connecting with a powerful left hook on Rendall’s cheek. Rendall stumbled a few feet backwards. He touched his hand to his cheek and recoiled slightly as he touched a tender spot.

“Give me a sword and fight me like a man,” Vars hissed. Fury burned behind the blue of his eyes. “You go around bullying children and hitting women. Is this what the inquisitors do now? Inquisitors used to be men of honour, at least enough honour to face a man. Put a sword in my hand and show me who you are.”

Rendall’s eyebrows peaked in surprise. He looked at Farda, who shrugged with disinterest. In a blur of motion, Rendall leapt towards Vars, closing the gap between them in fractions of a second. A look of shock spread across Vars’s face as Rendall drove his sword up into his chest, right to the hilt.

“Now, why,” Rendall said as he dragged the blade free of Var’s chest, staring into his eyes, “would I do that?”

A deep wail filled the air. Freis collapsed on the ground in a crumpled, sobbing heap. “No, no, no…” Her usually warm and welcoming eyes were raw and red. She shook uncontrollably. “Why…”

Calen leapt towards Vars’s body as it fell, lifeless, to the ground.