The Freedman and the Pharaoh's Staff by Lane Heymont Read Free Book Online Page A

had commanded lit filled the square with wavering shadows. “Bring me a chair!” Narce barked at no one in particular.  
    â€œYes, sir.” A hawk-nosed boy rushed off into a ransacked house. A moment later, he returned with a chair and set it down. Narce took a seat. Darkness paced around, sniffing the blood-soaked ground. Finding the right spot, he laid down at Narce’s feet.
    â€œMuch obliged...Fallon, is it?” The boy nodded. “Now go and get me a-somethin’ to drink!” Narce shoved him away. He’d forgotten, or decided to forget his charge, to find the thief who stole Verdiss’s map.
    â€œSir Nighthawk! Sir!” The boy came running. “Narce, Grand Dragon . . . Grand Dragon Verdiss wants to speak with you,” said Fallon, struggling to breathe. He pointed toward the shadows beyond the market’s edge.
    Narce jolted in his chair, his foot knocking against Darkness, who looked up for a moment. Narce gazed into the shadows and there, atop his black mare, sat Verdiss. The bonfire’s dancing light avoided him as if it were terrified of his presence.
    â€œGo and get me my damn drink, boy!” Narce shoved Fallon aside as he stood to his feet. He straightened his white robe, pulled his hood up to make sure the point stood straight, though it was impossible with his oddly shaped head. Verdiss motioned his gloved hand for Narce to approach.
    â€œGreetings . . . Grand Dragon . . . I . . . I have been . . . hard at work looking for the thief like you wanted.” He couldn’t help stammering as he hurried his way across the market. Verdiss’s mare neighed and retreated into the shadows to allow its master’s servant into the blackness.  
    â€œI chose you as my second for a reason, Narce.” Verdiss’s words sounded more like serpentine hisses. He pulled back his hood, revealing a beaten face covered in welts. Verdiss’s cruel eyes gleamed red in the absence of light. As he spoke, his tongue slipped in and out of his mouth like some physical tic. “You are the most cruel and hateful man amongst our Empire. I will need you in the future to meet our goal. Do not let the ecstasy of the kill entertain you while there is much to be done,” said Verdiss. His burning eyes went to the violent celebrations.
    â€œI . . . I understand, Grand Dragon. Y-you will not regret . . . giving me this opportunity.” Narce tried to speak proper, but Verdiss’s face kept him faltering.
    â€œDo not mistake my forgiving nature for weakness. Next time, you will be burning with those vermin. Now go find the brigand who has my map! Remember to never speak of my appearance. I have heard whispers among the men.” The Grand Dragon’s words sounded bitter. Verdiss turned his horse about and disappeared into the night. Its hooves seemed to clack to an old Confederate war drum, a beat Narce hadn’t thought of in years.
    Relief washed over him. But, he couldn’t figure out what the hell was happening. . . the map . . . what black magic did it lead to? He needed to focus on the goal at hand and not worry about what ifs. He had to worry about his own neck.  
    â€œListen up, y'all scum!” Narce stepped back into the light. “Leave them bodies and pick up yer traps!” As soon as Narce spoke the words, the Goblins extinguished their fires and gathered their equipment. “We got us two no-account boys runnin’ around. One broke the other outta this here jailhouse and assaulted a white man.” He eyed the Goblins as they hustled to ready themselves. Some loaded rifles and revolvers. Others sharpened and sheathed swords.  
    â€œSir Nighthawk, your drink.” Fallon ran over his flowing robe, trying not to spill the jar of moonshine he’d found. He held the glass up to Narce with a nervous smile.
    â€œWhy you liddle piece a shit Sunday soldier!” Narce wheeled on the boy, his hand across his face. Both