Deathwing by William King, David Pringle, Neil Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

     out with
     his
     foot,
     driving it
     into another
     bluecoat's
     stomach
     with
     inhuman
     force.
     As
     the
     man
     bent
     double
     the
     Librarian chopped
     down
     on
     his
     neck. breaking it.
    The bluecoats
     swarmed over him now. Their truncheons
     were as
     ineffective as
     twigs against
     a bear. A few tried to grab his arms and
     immobilise
     him.
     He
     shrugged
     them
     off
     easily,
     swinging
     killing
     blows
     with
     weapon
     and
     elbow.
     Where
     he struck,
     men died.
    As
     the
     battle
     lust
     swept
     over him, he felt the bound
     spirits
     slip away. He
     knew
     that
     he
     stood
     revealed
     in
     his
     true
     form. The last of the bluecoats
     turned
     to ran. Two
     Heads
     Talking
     hooked
     an
     arm
     around
     his
     neck
     and
     twisted.
     There
     was
     a
    crunch
     of shattering
     vertebrae.
    The old man gazed on him with religious intensity.
     "The
     spirits
     spoke
     truthfully,"
     he said, as
     if he
     did
     not
     quite
     believe it. He reached
     out
     and touched
     him. making sure
     he was real.
    "You
     have
     come
     at
     last
     to
     free
     the
     People
     from
     their bondage
     to
     the
     false
     Emperor
     and
     lead
     them
     back
     to
     the
     plains. What
     is your
     name, Sky Warrior?"
    "In my youth,
     it was Two Heads
     Talking, apprentice
     to Spirit
     Hawk.
     When
     I
     entered
     the
     service
     of
     the
     true
     Emperor,
     I
    took the
     name Lucian." He could
     see
     tears
     running
     down the
     old man's scarred
     cheeks.
    "Tell me, old man, what has happened
     to our folk? How did they
     come to fall so
     low?"
    "It began
     when I was a buck."
     said
     Morning
     Star, wiping his face. "One summer night,
     the
     sky burned,
     and
     there
     was
     a great
     roaring. A trail of fire raced across
     the
     sky, and
     there
     was an explosion. Where
     we are now
     was
     a vast
     crater,
     and in the
     centre,
     where the
     Temple of the
     Four-armed Emperor stands,
     was a great, red-hot
     pile of metal.
    "Some
     people
     thought
     the
     Sky
     Warriors
     had
     returned,
     that
     the
     roaring
     was
     the
     voice
     of
     their
     thunderbird.
     The Shamans
     knew that
     this
     could
     not
     be so,
     for Deathwing returns
     only
     once
     every
     hundred
     years,
     in
     autumn,
     and
     it
     had been
     only fifty years
     since
     the
     red star
     was last visible."
    "We
     were
     pleased because
     we
     thought
     that
     we
     might
     ride
     Deathwing. Most
     of
     us
     had
     reckoned
     on
     being
     old
     men when the
     Sky Warriors came again.
    "Those
     who met our chiefs were not
     the
     armoured warriors of legend.
     They
     were feeble, pale-skinned
     men who
     claimed that
     they
     had
     come
     from
     the
     Emperor
     to
     show
     us
     the
     way
     to
     build
     an
     earthly
     paradise.
     They
     preached
     the
     virtues
     of tolerance
     and
     brotherly
     love
     and
     an
     end
     to
     warfare.
     The
     chiefs sent
     them
     packing,
     which
     was
     a
     mistake,
     for
     when honeyed
     words
     did not succeed,
     they
     tried
     force
     of
     arms.
     They
     allied
     with
     the
     Hill
     Clans
     and
     gave
     them
     metal
     blades which our weapons
     could
     not
     withstand.
    "Eventually
    ,
     clans
     were
     forced
     to
     trade
     for
     the
     new weapons
     in
     order
     to
     withstand
     their
     enemies.
     Tales
     were
     told
     of how
     witching
     spirits
     with
     four
     arms
     and
     terrible
     claws
     destroyed
     our
     warriors.
     Soon,
     the pretenders
     ruled
     the
     Plains, taking slaves
     and destroying
     utterly
     those
     who opposed
     them.
    "Then
     came the
     building of this
     great
     city, using
     slave
     labour and
     paying
     the
     freemen in trade tokens."
    Suddenly
    ,
     the
     old