The Broken World by J.D. Oswald Read Free Book Online Page A

towards the grain store where his horse stood in the doorway.
    ‘Sorry, sir. I’ll be going right away, sir.’ Errol tried to make his voice sound flighty, like the chambermaids who chattered in the corridors of Castle Gremmil. He took up his horse’s reins and hauled himself into the saddle in what was probably a most unladylike manner. The soldier just laughed.
    ‘Tryin’ ter be one o’ the boys, eh?’ He slapped the horse on its rump, making it start. Errol reined it back, trotting out on to the road and heading back towards the town. Other soldiers appeared from behind the various grain stores, looking at him with puzzled expressions on their faces.
    ‘Just a town girl wantin’ ter play with the big boys,’ the soldier shouted, which raised a laugh. Dropping his head as if in shame, Errol kicked his horse into a trot and then a canter. As soon as he was sure he could no longer be seen he turned into a field and rode far out into the barley, leaving the soldiers well out of sight as he made a long detour back to the king’s road.

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    A dragon’s word is her bond. And not just her own promise but the promise of her tribe. An oath once sworn cannot be undone save by release from he to whom it is made. Or death, which ends all obligations.
    Think hard before you swear such an oath, for it will tie you with bonds of Grym, shackle you with the force of Gwlad herself. To break it is to set yourself a hostage to cruellest fate.
    Maddau the Wise,
An Etiquette
    There was something very liberating about having a simple task to do and knowing how to go about completing it. Melyn found the cleansing of the northlands of Llanwennog a joy after the endless months of planning, the long slog through the forest of the Ffrydd and the dash through the Rim mountains. Now that he was actually in his enemy’s lair and laying down the foundations of his great diversion, he was as close as he had ever come to being happy. It helped that he was ridding Gwlad of the godless Llanwennog; he could feel no sorrow in their deaths, as he would feel no sorrow at the death of any vermin. These people had long ago denied the word of the Shepherd. Their fate was a just one.
    So far they had only cleared villages and a few remote farmsteads. Out on the edges of settled country these people would not be missed for months, maybe longer, but it made no sense to leave too many enemies at his back. And so his scouts worked their way across the open plains, seeking out the next targets, while the bulk of the army remained out of sight. And hiding wasn’t difficult: at first the terrain might look like one endless flat plain stretching to the horizon, but it was cut across with gullies, most dry at the height of summer, but some still filled with sluggish rivers.
    They had camped on the edge of a large gully overnight, sheltering in some straggly woodland from the squalls of rain that swept in on sudden gusts of wind. Now Melyn was contemplating how best to attack Cerdys, the first sizeable town they had approached.
    ‘There’s no armed force stationed there?’ Melyn interrogated a spy he had sent into the town, a short wiry fellow with enough of the look of the local people to go about unremarked. All the warrior priests were proficient in Frecknock’s hiding spell now, so in theory any of them could go out and scout the area, but Melyn didn’t believe in leaving anything to chance.
    ‘There’s a constable and two deputies, but they’ve no skill at magic as far as I can tell. They carry short swords, but since they spend most of their time in the tavern at the centre of town, I don’t think they’ll pose much of a threat.’
    ‘Good. We’ll surround the town and close in using all the roads. We don’t leave until everyone is dead.’
    The scout nodded, leaving to rejoin his troop. Captain
Osgal handed out orders to his sergeants, and the camp began to dissolve, bands of men heading off in different directions at timed intervals. Melyn