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

battle than they ever could in a hundred days of practice. Those who were quick enough to learn would most likely survive. Those who weren’t would certainly be the first to die.
    Regulus would have been happy to walk amongst them and impart his own wisdom, the evidence of which was writ in the myriad scars he wore proudly on his flesh, but he knew it would only fall on deaf ears. He and his warriors were still treated with suspicion, despite what they had done to protect the city’s queen.
    Not that Regulus cared. He was not here to make allies. He was here to kill.
    The only men whose opinions he cared for were his own warriors. Even now they took the time to gather their thoughts, to polish their new armour and hone their new weapons. Hagama, Kazul – even the youngest of them, Akkula – were seasoned fighters. They did not practise their skills. This was a time to reflect on what was to come, to picture yourself victorious, to know that there were none who could stand against you. To fill yourself with anticipation of the slaughter. And his warriors knew how to slaughter all too well.
    As Regulus looked out over the wall at the slow moving crowds he heard the sound of movement behind him – the clanking of armour, the slap of weapon against hip, the clumsy footfalls. He didn’t have to turn to know it was one of the Coldlanders, they were always heralded by noise, never seeming able to tread lightly, but then these people were surrounded by stone. On the plains of Equ’un the Zatani had long ago learned how to tread lightly. Every tribe – whether Gor’tana, Kel’tana, Sho’tana or Vir’tana – had learned that it oftentimes meant the difference between life and death. Here such things seemed to matter little.
    Regulus turned to face the man. He recognised him – ‘Sargent’, they called him – an honorary term, though what he had done to deserve it Regulus had no idea. The man was fat around the middle, his hair grey with age. Such a man would not have lasted long as a chieftain on the plains. His smell was rank, even from a distance, but Regulus had learned in the past days that the stench was nowhere near as offensive as the man’s manners.
    ‘Are you ready?’ he said, keeping his distance. His voice was filled with disdain, but it was easy to read the fear behind it.
    ‘We are of the Gor’tana,’ Regulus replied. ‘The most feared tribe among the Zatani people. We are always ready.’
    The man frowned, but nodded with it, satisfied enough with the answer. ‘Good. And remember who’s in charge here. You may have been pardoned by the Crown but it gives you no special privilege. You’re under my command, and so are your men.’
    That almost made Regulus smile. He would have sorely liked to see this man try to command his warriors, especially Janto. That would have been a sight to see as the Sho’tana tore the man’s head off with a gleeful roar.
    ‘We are here to fight for your city,’ Regulus replied. ‘What other command could you have of us than to kill the enemy?’
    The sargent looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, unable to think of any argument, simply nodded.
    ‘Aye, well. Just make sure you and the rest of your kind are—’
    Regulus caught something in the corner of his eye. He turned to the south, in time to see the sky turn bright. It was as though the horizon had caught fire, shooting a line of burning debris towards the heavens. Half a dozen burning spheres rose up, contrails of black smoke in their wake. At first there was no sound, but as the fireballs hit their zenith and began to hurtle back to the earth, a wave of noise engulfed the city. It was a roar, an unnatural scream that came from the sea. Regulus had never heard anything like it and it took all his will not to raise his hands and block his ears as they were assaulted by the cacophony.
    Smoke, flames and debris were thrown into the air as the fireballs rained. The sound of it hit him a moment later, the roaring