Fall of Thanes by Brian Ruckley Read Free Book Online Page A

No matter their age, Kanin thought, they all looked old: bent and ragged and gaunt. The badge of defeat.
    He found himself becoming irritated. The blows from the whip were having no effect on the prostrate form at the overseer's feet, yet the man went on and on, his exertions becoming wilder and more frenzied with every stroke. The futility of it angered Kanin.
    He walked closer, approaching from the side to avoid the flailing whip. The man curled in the snow was folded down into a small, pathetic bundle like discarded sacking; unmoving beneath the increasingly savage blows. Kanin did not need to see his face to know that a whipping was not going to bring him back to his feet.
    "Enough," shouted Kanin. "He's dead. You're wasting time."
    The overseer ignored him. He lashed the corpse again, and then again, each strike accompanied by a grunting snarl that took to the air in a cloud of mist. As the man drew back his arm once more, the whip curling around and out behind him, Kanin stepped forwards and seized his wrist.
    "Enough, I said."
    The man spun about, his face contorted by rage. He shrugged off the Thane's grasp and stumbled back a few paces as if unbalanced by the ferocity of his emotions. Such ire burned in his eyes that Kanin could see nothing beyond it: there was no spark of recognition, no glimmer of anything other than animal fury. The man came forward. He raised his arm, the whip quivering with all the anger it inherited from its bearer.
    Kanin arched his eyebrows in disbelief, but did not move aside or raise any defence against the imminent blow. Igris, his shieldman, was quicker. The warrior stepped in front of his Thane and, even as the whip began to snap forward, put his sword deep into the overseer's belly. The man fell to his knees. The whip snaked out feebly across the white snow. Igris pushed, tipping the man onto his back, then set a foot on his chest and pulled his blade free. The overseer gently placed his hands across the wound in his stomach, interlacing the fingers almost as if he were settling himself to sleep on a soft bed. He blinked and panted. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes. His blood trickled into the snow and stained it.
    Kanin turned and walked away. The column had shuffled to a halt, both guards and bearers watching. Their interest was desultory, remote. Kanin ignored them. Igris came hurrying after him.
    "Did you see his eyes?" Kanin asked.
    "Yes, sire," Igris answered.
    "Nothing in him but bloodlust. Didn't even know me; blinded by it. That's what we've come to. We turn on each other, like starving dogs."
    "Perhaps you've some ale you could offer me, Thane?"
    Kanin looked up from the platter of goat stew he was hunched over. Cannek was standing in the doorway of the farmhouse. Over the Hunt Inkallim's shoulder, Kanin could see snow falling. Cannek's cloak--a heavy, rustic garment more suited to an impoverished farmer--was smeared with melting flakes. The Inkallim was smiling. He smiled too much, Kanin thought, and without good reason.
    "Or if not ale, a seat at least?"
    Kanin nodded at the bench opposite his own. He took another mouthful of tasteless stew.
    "No ale, though," he said through it.
    Cannek wrinkled his nose in disappointment as he shrugged the cloak from his shoulders. He spread it to dry on the floor in front of the fire.
    "I looked for you down by the city." He sat at the table, facing Kanin. "You wearied of the siege, it seems."
    Kanin glared at the Inkallim from under a creased brow, and then returned his attention to the bowl of stew. But his appetite, meagre at the best of times, was gone.
    "If so, I sympathise," Cannek said. He unbuckled the knives that were always strapped to his forearms and laid them down on the uneven tabletop. Their dark wooden handles, Kanin noticed for the first time, had tiny ravens carved into them. Cannek rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms back. It was a lazy movement, like a wolf stretching.
    "It's unpleasant down there," the