Lord of Ashes (Steelhaven: Book Three) by Richard Ford Read Free Book Online

behind his black helmet. ‘Are you ready?’
    Nobul didn’t have to think on it. He already knew the answer to that one. ‘Aye, I’m ready. I’ve been ready for these fuckers a long time.’
    ‘Good.’ Bannon clapped him on the arm. ‘Then I’ll be proud to stand beside you.’
    For the first time in an age, a smile crept across Nobul’s lips. ‘Don’t stand too close, old man. Wouldn’t want you getting in the way.’
    Bannon laughed as he turned and continued to chuckle while he made his way across the battlements. It seemed strange to laugh so long at such a thing, but Nobul knew it was the gallows humour that struck all men in the calm before battle. There was nothing to laugh about here. Death was no laughing matter – whether you were dealing it out, or whether it was coming for you.
    And Nobul Jacks knew full well that when the Khurtas finally came he’d be the one doing the dealing.

FOUR
    R egulus and his warriors had been posted to the western wall, overlooking the vast river that ran in floods from the north. Crossing the river were three bridges, the centremost having long since collapsed, leaving only an impassable monument that reached up from the fast flowing waters like some drowning beast. On the other side was a vast, derelict city, crumbling and ancient, but still teeming with ragged Coldlanders. Even now they were marching into the city proper, fearing the onslaught that could at any moment descend from the north to consume them.
    Even though these gates would soon be closed and barred with iron they still needed to be defended. There was nothing to stop the enemy moving through the crumbling streets over the river and crossing the two bridges that were still intact. Regulus knew he had been bestowed a great honour, been offered the chance he yearned for – to defend the bridge with black steel and tooth and claw, and earn himself a formidable reputation.
    It was still not enough for Regulus Gor.
    He wanted to be on the northern wall, where the enemy would most readily focus its strength. The vast plain in front of the city was the most likely place for the Elharim warlord to amass his mighty army. Regulus wanted to be where the fighting was hardest, where the killing was the fiercest and the glory would be bestowed on him in a flood.
    Nobul Jacks had been posted to that wall. The honour of meeting the enemy in their greatest numbers would be his, and that stung Regulus deep. He owed Jacks a life debt and it would be difficult to repay while he was stuck here, watching the river run past and hoping the enemy were bold enough to try and cross the bridge. His chance to settle that debt seemed all but lost for now. He could only hope Nobul Jacks would live long enough for him to pay it. Deep inside, Regulus was confident he would.
    In the last few days, the stern Coldlander had become something of a legend amongst the city’s defenders. Once he had donned that helm of his he commanded a strange fear and respect amongst the city’s warriors. Regulus had not realised just how formidable a reputation the Black Helm bore, and he could only envy Nobul Jacks for it.
    Not only that, but the man had crafted the best armour Regulus had ever donned. It was black steel, to match the sword at his side, each piece crafted to fit his form like a second skin: light, manoeuvrable yet hard as granite. It made Regulus feel invincible. He could only hope that in the days to come he would be able to test its worth in battle. His greatest fear was that he would be needlessly stuck defending the western gate while his chance at glory was to the north.
    The Coldlanders practised their swordplay in readiness for an attack. Below, on the street where ranks of warriors waited in anticipation, they fought one another in friendly bouts. Regulus could only smile at that. What could they possibly hope to learn in the next day or so before the enemy came for them? They would learn more in the first few moments of a real