Blood of the Underworld by David Dalglish Read Free Book Online Page B

Antonil whispered. “How many executed, and how many sent to the dungeon?”
    Victor shook his head.
    “You still don’t understand, do you? Your judges do. Mercy has extended long enough here. All seventeen have met your executioner’s blade. The dungeon is only for those who refuse to cooperate, who would rather bite their tongue than reveal the guilty. This is war, Antonil. War against the very culture that has twisted and perverted everything great about Veldaren and turned it into something wicked. We have no time for prisoners.”
    The executioner lifted his axe. Neither Victor nor Antonil looked away as it descended. There were no onlookers, no gathered crowds, so they easily heard the plop of the head hitting the wood, the sound of the blood dripping across the platform, and the untying of the ropes as they cleared away the body.
    “I want every name,” Antonil said. “Every crime, every shred of proof leveraged against the men who died here today.”
    “Of course,” Victor said. “I understand your fear that we will execute an innocent. It won’t happen, Antonil. I won’t let it. The only sins I’ll bear shall come from waiting as long as I did. Come with me. I’ll tell Sef to prepare everything you need.”
    As they walked back toward the initial five lines, Antonil stepped in his way, grabbed him by the front of his collar, and pulled him close. Victor tensed, but he sensed no anger, no threat. Antonil’s eyes met his, and they were full of fear...and hope.
    “They’ll kill you,” Antonil whispered. “Something like this, so grand, so terrifying...they won’t let it stand. I don’t care how many guards you have, how careful you are, they’ll still slit your throat, cut your body into pieces, and then scatter the remains about the city. You are a dead man, Victor.”
    Victor took a step closer, put a hand on Antonil’s shoulder.
    “Let them try.”
    He pulled away from the Guard Captain, then motioned Sef over.
    “Everything he requests, fulfill to the best of your abilities,” he said. “I must return to my room, and ensure no specters lurk in its corners. Oh, and Antonil...”
    Victor sighed, tried to see things from the other’s perspective. His grin faded, and he let some of his honest worry shine through.
    “I know I might die doing this,” he said. “But when? How long? Because each day we do this, the sun shines that much brighter upon Veldaren. Succeed or fail...I’ll have done something.”
    “What drives you, Victor?” Antonil asked as Victor put his back to him and walked down the street. “What madness would have you risk so much for so little?”
    Victor waved goodbye, and did not answer. Unguarded, he walked down the street, but he never felt alone. His men were everywhere, always watching, always searching. They saluted as they passed him by, and each time, he smiled back. Just a small smile and a meeting of the eyes. He wanted each to think he’d put special interest in them, watching closely for signs of greatness. For the most part, it was true. And when he received that night’s report, listing the dead under his command, he’d recognize every name, remember every face. Steeling himself against the pain did little to help.
    King Edwin had not offered them a place to stay, just as Victor had expected. The man was a coward, and Victor was lucky enough to have the King go along with his plan, however distantly. But the castle was not a safe place anyway. It was too big, too grandiose, with all the windows, high ceilings, and lengthy halls filled with a million shadows. For most of his men, they’d be staying in inns scattered about the town. Victor had carefully chosen his home, though, and secured it before ever going to Edwin. Eyes watched him from rooftops, but it didn’t matter if they saw where he slept. The constant surveillance only showed how frightened they were of him.
    “Evening,” Victor said to the two men stationed before the entrance of what