Century of the Soldier: The Collected Monarchies of God (Volume Two) (115 page)

"Emperor?" Comillan cried.

"That's what they call him. This here army is going to finish the job you Torunnans started. We're going to beat out whatever sparks are still alight of this Second Empire, hunt out every shifter and witch and wizard that's still on its feet in this part of the world, and torch them, every one. So I hear say, anyway."

The Fimbrian paused. "You fought this one well, as well as men can fight. I'm sorry about your King. He was a soldier." The Fimbrian turned and left them, following in the wake of his Emperor.

When he had gone, Comillan leaned his elbows on the battlement and hid his face in his hands.

T
HE SCROLL QUIVERED
in Mirren's grasp, trembling with the beat of her heart. She looked out the window, and stared across the teeming streets of Aurungabar to the horned Temple of Pir-Sar, which had once been the cathedral of Carcasson. It was full summer now, and the air above the city shimmered with heat, as though shuddered into ripples by the busy clamour of the streets below.

In her hands, the scroll crackled as her fingers closed upon it, clenching white. Her eyes filled with tears.

The chamber door was opened, and in breezed her husband, dark, smiling Nasir. She looked at him, and smiled back, even as his face fell.

"News from the west," she said. The scroll fell from her hands. Her marmoset squeaked and leapt up to her shoulder, ringing her neck with its tail. She soothed it, burying her face in the soft fur.

Nasir knelt before her. "I couldn't find you," he said. "I looked everywhere."

"I wanted a view of the Temple. I wanted quiet."

"I have heard rumours, but this is the first despatch."

"Yes. They brought it to me. I am Torunna's Queen now." She paused. "I knew what was in it. I knew by his face. The man who brought it looked as though it was his own father who had died. He wept as he gave it to me. Torunna is in mourning already."

Nasir groaned. He grasped her hand and kissed it. "I am so sorry, Mirren."

"Now we are both orphans," she said. She smiled, and stroked his face. "I must not weep for him. He succeeded. He saved us all." More briskly she said, "Now up, Nasir, off the floor. Sit beside me. We have much to discuss."

Side by side they looked out at the hot brightness of the day beyond, and smelled the breeze of summer which played about the city. A king and a queen, who loved one another, and were not much more than children. They spoke quietly together of the future, of the fate of two peoples, and the ways in which these would one day be brought together.

Epilogue

T
HE DREAMING HEIGHTS
of the Jafrar Mountains were wrapped in everlasting snow, but down on their knees a summer evening was blue with the approaching dusk, and the first stars had begun to burn bright and clear in an empty sky.

About the campfire two old men sat warming their hands while behind them their mounts nosed at the fresh grass: one a common mule, the other a fine-limbed grey gelding such as the Merduks had bred upon the eastern steppes for generations. The two men said nothing, but watched the approach of a third rider as he made his way up into the empty hills towards them. He was clad in a black cloak, and a circlet of silver was set on his head. He carried a sword of great lineage, and yet his face was ridged and scarred as by the claws of some beast. He halted at the limit of the firelight and dismounted, and as he walked towards them they saw that he was lame in one leg.

"I saw your fire, and thought I might join you," he said, and, wrapping his cloak about himself, he sat close to the embers of the wind-flapping flames.

"You are weary," one of the two others told him, a kind-eyed man with a monk's tonsure and a grey beard.

"I have come a long way."

"Then you shall stay with us and have peace," the third said, and he was a white-haired old man with the face of a Merduk.

"I would like that."

The three sat companionably enough about the fire as the night swooped in around them and the mountains became vast black shadows against the stars. Finally the scarred man stirred, rubbing his leg.

"I almost lost my way, back down there. I almost took the wrong path."

"But you did not," the tonsured one said, smiling, and there was a great compassion in his eyes. "And now, perhaps, all will be well at last. And you may rest."

The other sighed and nodded.

"I never thought I would have to travel so far. But there are others now to take my place, and their world is better than the one in which I lived. I am no longer needed."

"But you will not be forgotten."

It seemed that some last thing troubled the scarred man.

"Who are you, lord?" he asked in a low voice.

"Men called me Ramusio, when I dwelled among them. And my friend here was named Shahr Baraz. If you wish, you shall stay with us."

"I would like that," the man said, and he seemed to slump, as though a last burden had been taken from him.

"And what may we call you?" Shahr Baraz asked gently.

The man raised his head, and it seemed a much younger face now looked out at them, and the scars thereon had disappeared.

"My name is Corfe," he said. "I was once a king."

His two companions nodded as though it were something they already knew, and then the trio sat quiet in the night staring into the firelight whilst above them the great vault of the night sky glittered and under their feet the dark heart of the earth turned on in its endless gyre amid the stars.

Acknowledgements

John McLaughlin and Jo Fletcher,

for their enormous patience.

This omnibus eBook contains the first two novels in the Monarchies of God series - Hawkwood's Voyage and The Heretic Kings.

THE WESTERN WORLD IS BURNING...

For Richard Hawkwood and his crew, a desperate venture to carry refugees to the uncharted land across the Great Western Ocean offers the only chance of escape from the Inceptines' pyres.

In the East, Lofantyr, Abeleyn and Mark - three of the five Ramusian Kings - have defied the cruel pontiff's purge and must fight to hold their thrones through excommunication, intrigue and civil war.

In the quiet monastery city of Charibon, two humble monks make a discovery that will change the whole world.

Aekir, the Holy City, has fallen and all now seems lost, but even on the eve of destruction the Faithful still war amongst themselves...

Hawkwood and the Kings collects Hawkwood's Voyage and The Heretic Kings, the first two books in Paul Kearney's spectacular The Monarchies of God cycle.

www.solarisbooks.com

It is twenty-three years since a Macht army fought its way home from the heart of the Asurian Empire. The man who came to lead that army, Rictus, is now a hard-bitten mercenary captain, middle-aged and tired. He wants nothing more than to lay down his spear and become the farmer that his father was. But fate has different ideas.

A young war-leader has risen to challenge the order of things in the very heartlands of the Macht. A soldier of genius, he takes city after city, and reigns over them asking. What is more, he has heard of the legendary leader of the Ten Thousand. His name is Corvus, and the rumours say that he is not even fully human. He means to make himself absolute ruler of all the Macht. And he wants Rictus to help him.

www.solarisbooks.com

On the world of Kuf, the Macht are a mystery, a seldom-seen people of extraordinary ferocity and discipline whose prowess on the battlefield is the stuff of legend. For centuries they have remained within the remote fastnesses of the Harukush Mountains. In the world beyond, the teeming races and peoples of Kuf have been united within the bounds of the Asurian Empire, which rules the known world, and is invincible. The Great King of Asuria can call up whole nations to the battlefield. His word is law.

But now the Great King's brother means to take the throne by force, and in order to do so he has sought out the legend. He hires ten thousand mercenary warriors of the Macht, and leads them into the heart of the Empire.