The Legend of Broken by Caleb Carr Read Free Book Online Page A

the walls—and alert those two shirkers below, as well.” Ban-chindo nods, his mouth too dry to speak. “I can count on you, Pallin?”
    Straining hard, Ban-chindo finds his voice. “You can, Sentek.”
    “Good man.” Arnem smiles, and moves Ban-chindo’s spear so that it is tight against the young man’s shoulder once more. “At attention, † lad. There’s worse to come, if I’m any judge—and we must
all
be ready …”

1:{
iv
:}
    The Bane foragers secure a fine meal for
    themselves—and for the wolves on the Plain, as well …
     
    Having heard the scream, though not quite so distinctly as the men atop Broken’s walls, Keera and Veloc have leapt from their hiding place on the northern, or Broken side of the Fallen Bridge. They rush through the rich spring grass that rises above their knees to join Heldo-Bah, who has gone to scout for any members of Lord Baster-kin’s Guard who may be patrolling this portion of the boundary of the great merchant’s plain. Keera seethes with anger, as she keeps her nose in the air to locate their troublesome friend.
    “I told him!” she hisses. “You heard me, Veloc, I said no killing!”
    “No killing
unless
it was necessary,” her brother answers evenly, lifting his short bow over his head, reaching for an arrow from the small quiver at his waist, and nocking it. “That is, in fact, what you said, Keera—and perhaps it
was
necessary.”
    “‘Perhaps it was necessary,’” Keera mocks. “You know just as well as I do that—”
    But they have reached a small circle in the grass, flattened violently as if by a struggle. At the edge of the circle, hidden in standing grass, they find not only Heldo-Bah, but a soldier of Broken. The latter is young, muscular, and would stand at well over six feet—if his legs were not bent at the knees and bound so tightly with strong gut-line to his arms that his feet are crushed painfully to his thighs. Heldo-Bah, cackling quietly, stuffs moist sod into his captive’s mouth. The soldier bleeds near one knee; but his well-bred face shows more terror than pain.
    “It seems they’ve just changed the watch,” Heldo-Bah tells Keera, getting up. “We should be safe enough while we finish our business.”
    “You suppose so?” Keera demands angrily, letting her fists fly at Heldo-Bah’s arm. He stifles a small bark of pain. “With that cry that he gave? How could even
you
be so stupid, Heldo-Bah?”
    “Can I help it if the man’s a coward?” Heldo-Bah replies, sullenly rubbing the spot on his arm that Keera struck. “I hadn’t touched him, and then he suddenly saw my face, and screamed like some frightened girl! Besides, I made sure that he was patrolling alone.” Looking at the soldier’s face, Heldo-Bah’s own features fill with delight once more: his grin displays the filed teeth with their black gap, and he pokes the young man’s red-brown leather armor with one of his marauder knives. “Not your night, Tall,” he says, removing a wide brass band encircling the muscles of the soldier’s upper right arm. The center of the band has been beaten into a bearded, smiling face with empty almond eyes, a thin, flaring nose, and full lips—the image of Kafra. It marks the captive soldier as what the three Bane expected to encounter: a member of the Personal Guard of the Lord of the Merchants’ Council. † It is a fact with which Heldo-Bah toys even more delightedly than he does with the shining trinket.
    “Baster-kin will probably sentence you to be mutilated for this failure,” he laughs. “Provided
we
don’t kill you first, of course.”
    The soldier begins to sweat profusely at these words, and Veloc examines him disdainfully. “A fine specimen of Broken virtue,” the handsome Bane decides. “Keep him alive, Heldo-Bah—the Groba will have our stones, if we come away from this with no useful information.”
    “You won’t have to wait for the Groba,” Keera says, eyes ever on the landscape about her.