Read Online Book 1 - The Man With the Golden Torc by Simon R. Green - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Simon R. Green
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smile was broad
and genuine, but even with me, there was still a touch of the ingrained iciness
that never left his eyes.
James had always been my favourite member of the family. After
my father and my mother were killed, James became the closest thing to a parent
I had. He took a sullen, silent, lost, and introverted boy and gave him a reason
to live. He found things to interest and challenge me, encouraged my rebellions,
and gave me a purpose in learning to fight all the evil people in the world
responsible for orphaning so many children. He brought me back out of myself and
made it possible for me to be happy again. If I ever had a hero, it was Uncle
James. The last of the great adventurers, he went to the good war like a
starving man to a feast. He had the most experience, and the most successful
missions to his credit, of any member of the family. His use-name was a curse on
the lips of the ungodly, and you could stop conversations with it in bars and
dives all across the world. They called him the Gray Fox, and he was everything
I ever aspired to be.
He was also the first one to advise me to leave and strike out
on my own before the family’s insistence on duty and tradition crushed my
spirit. I’ve always believed that the only reason I was ever allowed to operate
at such a distance was because Uncle James went to bat for me with the
Matriarch. Not that I’ve ever mentioned it, of course. It would only have
embarrassed him.
"It’s good to see you again, Uncle James," I said. "Ten years
it’s been, and yet still strangely there’s not even a hint of gray at your
temples…"
"Clean living and heavy drinking," he said easily. "You’ve
filled out since I last saw you. It suits you."
"Do you know why I’ve been summoned back here?" I said bluntly.
"Haven’t a clue, Eddie. I’m only looking in, in between
missions. A soft bed, a good meal, and a wander through the wine cellars before
they pack me off again. I’m just back from giving Dr. Delirium a bloody nose in
the Amazon jungle, and as soon as I’ve done a little research here, I’m off to
sort out the Shadow Boxers of Shanghai. You know how it is; one damned thing
after another."
"I am so jealous," I said, grinning despite myself. "You get all
the most glamorous assignments. I’ve never even been allowed out of the
country."
He raised a single eyebrow as he lit a black Russian cigarette
with his monogrammed gold lighter. "Now, you know why that is, Eddie. But you do
good work. People notice. The more missions you complete successfully, the more
trust you’ll earn, and the more leash they’ll give you."
"But they’ll never take the leash off, will they? I’ll never be
free of the family."
"Why would you want to? You’re part of the most important
heritage in the world." James looked me right in the eye, very seriously. "To be
born a Drood is a privilege as well as a responsibility. We get to know the
truth about the way things really are, and we get to fight the battles that
really matter. And if in return we get the best of everything, it’s because
we’ve earned it. And all the family has ever asked for is loyalty."
"We’re born drafted into a war that never ends," I said, meeting
his gaze squarely. "And most of us die fighting that war, far from home and
family. Some of us never get to know our parents, and some parents never get to
know their sons. I know: it’s an honour to serve. But I would have liked to be
asked."
And that was when the general alarm sounded, like every bell and
siren in the world going off at once. James and I turned as one and ran back
through the library. We charged out into the corridor and almost ran over the
Sarjeant-at-Arms as he ran past, a gun in each hand. James grabbed him by the
shoulder and hauled him to a halt as family members came running from every
direction.
"It’s the Heart!" yelled the Sarjeant, pulling away and racing
off down the corridor.
and genuine, but even with me, there was still a touch of the ingrained iciness
that never left his eyes.
James had always been my favourite member of the family. After
my father and my mother were killed, James became the closest thing to a parent
I had. He took a sullen, silent, lost, and introverted boy and gave him a reason
to live. He found things to interest and challenge me, encouraged my rebellions,
and gave me a purpose in learning to fight all the evil people in the world
responsible for orphaning so many children. He brought me back out of myself and
made it possible for me to be happy again. If I ever had a hero, it was Uncle
James. The last of the great adventurers, he went to the good war like a
starving man to a feast. He had the most experience, and the most successful
missions to his credit, of any member of the family. His use-name was a curse on
the lips of the ungodly, and you could stop conversations with it in bars and
dives all across the world. They called him the Gray Fox, and he was everything
I ever aspired to be.
He was also the first one to advise me to leave and strike out
on my own before the family’s insistence on duty and tradition crushed my
spirit. I’ve always believed that the only reason I was ever allowed to operate
at such a distance was because Uncle James went to bat for me with the
Matriarch. Not that I’ve ever mentioned it, of course. It would only have
embarrassed him.
"It’s good to see you again, Uncle James," I said. "Ten years
it’s been, and yet still strangely there’s not even a hint of gray at your
temples…"
"Clean living and heavy drinking," he said easily. "You’ve
filled out since I last saw you. It suits you."
"Do you know why I’ve been summoned back here?" I said bluntly.
"Haven’t a clue, Eddie. I’m only looking in, in between
missions. A soft bed, a good meal, and a wander through the wine cellars before
they pack me off again. I’m just back from giving Dr. Delirium a bloody nose in
the Amazon jungle, and as soon as I’ve done a little research here, I’m off to
sort out the Shadow Boxers of Shanghai. You know how it is; one damned thing
after another."
"I am so jealous," I said, grinning despite myself. "You get all
the most glamorous assignments. I’ve never even been allowed out of the
country."
He raised a single eyebrow as he lit a black Russian cigarette
with his monogrammed gold lighter. "Now, you know why that is, Eddie. But you do
good work. People notice. The more missions you complete successfully, the more
trust you’ll earn, and the more leash they’ll give you."
"But they’ll never take the leash off, will they? I’ll never be
free of the family."
"Why would you want to? You’re part of the most important
heritage in the world." James looked me right in the eye, very seriously. "To be
born a Drood is a privilege as well as a responsibility. We get to know the
truth about the way things really are, and we get to fight the battles that
really matter. And if in return we get the best of everything, it’s because
we’ve earned it. And all the family has ever asked for is loyalty."
"We’re born drafted into a war that never ends," I said, meeting
his gaze squarely. "And most of us die fighting that war, far from home and
family. Some of us never get to know our parents, and some parents never get to
know their sons. I know: it’s an honour to serve. But I would have liked to be
asked."
And that was when the general alarm sounded, like every bell and
siren in the world going off at once. James and I turned as one and ran back
through the library. We charged out into the corridor and almost ran over the
Sarjeant-at-Arms as he ran past, a gun in each hand. James grabbed him by the
shoulder and hauled him to a halt as family members came running from every
direction.
"It’s the Heart!" yelled the Sarjeant, pulling away and racing
off down the corridor.
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