The Broken Isles (Legends of the Red Sun 4) by Mark Charan Newton Read Free Book Online

for divine intervention,’ Lan commented. ‘I didn’t have you down as a particularly religious man.’
    ‘That was before we had someone who’s practically a god by our side,’ he replied.
    ‘Speaking of which, what’s he been up to?’ Lan asked.
    ‘Oh who the hell knows? I tell him what I need, he delivers it if he feels inclined, though sometimes I’m not sure he even hears me. So, essentially, that’s why I have some
hope that we’ll be fine when we hit the water.’
    ‘So you can be an optimist,’ she joked and kissed the back of his neck.
    *
    There were twenty-two earth carriages now, twenty-two behemoths constructed by Frater Mercury from the very fabric of the land. They had risen up from the ground with mud
dripping off like water, and wheels had been created from debris and somehow bound to these enormous clumps of land.
    These rolling banks of earth were enough to carry hundreds of people, and many of them sat clinging near the edges nervously. Each was pulled by a horse taller than a church spire.
    *
    Fulcrom, with Lan behind him, rode forwards alongside the lead vehicle. It was cold, it was always cold, but they had to keep moving. The sound of the vast rotating wheels was monotonous.
    ‘He seems to have settled into our world quite nicely,’ Lan observed. She indicated Frater Mercury, who stood on top of one of the towering horses.
    Frater Mercury: a being summoned through to this world by a priest who was no longer in it. He was a head taller than Fulcrom, and his face was split down the centre: one side was bone, the
other metal, and where they met seemed to be a perfectly natural design. His two human eyes, set amidst that alien facial architecture, were disarming for their familiarity. He wore a deep-blue
cloak that seemed to hold other hues within it, and beneath that was a body-tight dark outfit, one befitting a soldier, and one which Fulcrom half suspected was Frater Mercury’s body
itself.
    ‘For a god, he certainly doesn’t act like one. If indeed he is a god.’
    ‘I’m not actually sure what he’s meant to be,’ Lan said. ‘I’m glad he’s here though.’
    Fulcrom was also grateful to have the enigmatic Frater Mercury travelling with them. Not only had he created these rolling earth vehicles, but when there had been assaults from the sky-city,
Frater Mercury had turned to engage in combat – something remarkably impressive for such a frail-looking old man.
    *
    Stopping was a slow and laborious affair and, even though they had been on the run for several days now, the process had become an art.
    Fulcrom took out a red rag that he had wrapped around a stick to form a banner. After indicating to the soldiers accompanying the lead land-vehicle to halt, Fulcrom turned his horse and rode
backwards along the line, at speed. With the wind ruffling his wax cape, and Lan holding on tightly behind him, Fulcrom steered past the streams of muddied, cold and confused citizens of the
Empire. He waved the red banner and called out to the soldiers, who he had requested to station themselves along the line on horseback, to act as guides and moral support.
    As Fulcrom passed the crowds, he could see people collectively grabbing the reins of the gargantuan horse that towed their land-vehicle. Eventually, the thunderous strides ceased and the
vehicles rolled to a stop. Everyone on board them looked dazed, as if they had just woken from slumber.
    Fulcrom continued to ride for several minutes down the line and past each of the absurdly large horses, waving his banner at each one, giving the signal, watching to make sure they stopped
– before continuing on to the next. When all of the vehicles had stopped, he rode back up the line with his hand in the air and his fingers and thumb extended: five hours, this signalled.
They would stop for five hours.
    They did not pause their journey often – because of the hassle and the threat of the invaders. With the slowly advancing city now a