Necropolis (Royal Sorceress Book 3) by Christopher Nuttall Read Free Book Online

her?
    That’s why he wanted me to stay in my cabin , she thought, as she reached the edge of the gangplank and started down carefully. It was icy and felt dangerously unstable under her feet. He didn’t want the crew to know more than they absolutely needed to know .
    She lost her footing, suddenly, and landed on her bottom. As the horsemen laughed at her, she slipped and slid to the foot of the gangplank, silently grateful she hadn’t fallen into the water. Ivan held out a hand, helped her to her feet and patted her back in a gesture she suspected was intended to be paternal – or possessive. She glared up at him, then looked over at the horses. Gwen had offered to teach her how to ride, but they’d never actually managed to get around to it. Olivia hadn’t minded too much. She’d always found horses a little scary.
    “These are Cossacks,” Ivan said, by way of introduction. “Loyal to the Father Tsar: his most dedicated servants.”
    Olivia eyed the Cossacks with some interest, recalling tales she’d heard in London. They were brutal, she’d heard, utterly ruthless when it came to serving the interests of the Tsar. And they were monsters in human form ... although she knew better than to take that too seriously. The first time she’d met a Frenchman, she’d honestly expected him to look like a giant monkey. But instead he’d just looked like any other foppish nobleman.
    Up close, the Cossacks were definitely hairy, with long beards and moustaches that looked straggly and uncut. Unlike the men in London, who seemed to pride themselves on neatly-trimmed facial hair, they seemed utterly unkempt. And yet there was a sense of intelligence about them that bothered her, combined with a brutality matching that of the goons she recalled from the Rookery. The Cossacks would do anything for their Father Tsar, she realised, including taking her to her final destination.
    Ivan caught her arm and propelled her towards one of the horses. Olivia shrank back as the brute snorted at her, shuddering in fear. The Charmer laughed, picked her up and practically threw her over the horse. For a terrifying moment, she thought she was going to fall over the other side of the beast and felt absolute panic gripping at her mind. She caught hold of the saddle and managed to pull herself into the seat, her mind feeling clearer than it had in days. The panic had broken Ivan’s commands!
    She forced herself to remain calm as the Cossacks raised a shout and started to canter down the road, along a street crammed with people, wagons and even a handful of small carriages. The Cossacks didn’t stop for anything; they just charged forward, knocking people and wagons out of the way by force. Olivia saw an elderly woman knocked over by one of the horses, then a pair of young boys jumping back to avoid a blow from a whip. The horses only picked up speed as they kept running faster and faster, as if they were being chased by the hordes of hell. Or, perhaps, as if they didn’t want to get caught in a single place. It made sense, she told herself, as she saw a woman with two children being whipped across the face. Olivia had seen horsemen brought down by crowds during the Swing ...
    A set of wagons was suddenly in front of them, accidentally blocking the road. Olivia saw her chance and pulled hard on the reins, bringing the horse to a sudden stop. Moments later, she jumped off the beast’s back, landed as well as could be expected and started to run, silently thanking the god she didn’t really believe in that the Russians had made her wear trousers. Running in a dress was damn near impossible, at least for her. She had a suspicion that the Grand Mistresses of Fashion preferred to make it harder for young women to run away from them.
    She heard shouts behind her as she plunged into an alleyway, silently praying that the street was too narrow for the horses. Like any London alleyway, it was jammed with homeless people trying to get what comfort they