Read Online 03 - God King by Graham McNeill - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online Page A

stand.
    Sigmar turned to Conn Carsten and said, “Can I ask you something, Conn?”
    The newest count of the Empire nodded slowly, as though wary of Sigmar’s
purpose.
    “This should be a grand day for you,” said Sigmar, knowing that flowery words
or an indirect approach would only irritate the northerner. “You are a count of
the Empire now, a man of great respect and responsibility. Yet you seem
distracted, like you stand at the grave of your sword brother. Why is that?”
    Carsten put down his beer and wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve.
    “I have lost too many men in the last year and a half to celebrate, my lord.
The wolves of the north wreaked great harm on my tribe and devastated our lands.
Every village among the Udose has widows to spare, and the black shawls of
mourning are too common a sight among my people. We are always first to feel the
bite of Norsii axes. That makes it hard to know joy.”
    Sigmar shook his head, gesturing at the gathered warriors. “Your warriors
seem to have no difficulty in finding it.”
    “Because they are young and foolish,” said Carsten. “They think themselves
immortal and beyond death’s touch. If they live a little longer they will see
the lie of that belief.”
    “A grim view, my friend.”
    “A realistic one. I have buried three wives and six children in my life. I
once believed that I could have it all, the life of a warrior with its glory and
battles, with a loving wife and family to come back to. But it is impossible.
You of all people should know that.”
    Sigmar felt the touch of Ravenna’s memory, but instead of pain, it now
brought him comfort, a reassurance that she was alive within his heart.
    “You’re right, I do know the pain of losing loved ones. I lost the
love of my life many years ago and my best friend was killed by a man I once
called a brother. Every death in Middenheim was a grievous loss, but I know that
a life lived without hope or joy is a wasted one. I know the reality of life in
the Empire, my friend. I know it is dangerous, often short and violent. That is
precisely why we must take what joy we can from what the gods give us.”
    “That may be the Unberogen way, but it is not my way,” said Carsten. “Live in
hope if you must, I will live in the knowledge that all things must die.”
    Sigmar said, “Look at Reikdorf, look at all we have achieved here and how the
Empire’s cities grow larger and stronger. One day we will have borders that no
enemy, no matter how strong they are, can breach. We will have peace and our
people will know contentment.”
    Conn Carsten took a mouthful of beer and smiled. “It would not do for me to
call you foolish, my Emperor, but I think that is a naive belief. We will always
have to fight to hold on to what you have built. Already you have defeated two
major invasions. Many more will come. It only takes one to succeed and the
Empire will be forgotten in a generation.”
    “I have heard that before, Conn,” said Sigmar with a grim smile. “The
necromancer Morath tried to break me with a similar argument. If we live fearing
that all we have will be lost, then we would never build anything, never achieve anything. I cannot live that way; I will build and defend what I
have built with my life. You are part of that, Conn, a vital part. I cannot do
this without your support. You alone can keep the clans united and be my sword
in the north.”
    Carsten smiled and his face was transformed in an instant. Sigmar’s words
were flattery, but the northern clansman saw the sincerity in them and his dour
expression lifted. He raised his mug of beer and Sigmar toasted with him.
    “I’ll drink to that,” said Carsten. “But I know what I am, a cantankerous old
man the clan chieftains tolerate as their count because they know that every
other clan hates me too. I have no sons left to follow me, so the other
chieftains look at me and know they will be rid of me in a few years. They can