Read Online Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) by Richard Innes - Free Book Online
Authors: Richard Innes
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commanded, he climbed awkwardly out of the wagon as calmly and
quietly as he could manage and moved toward the area directed. He noticed
several things in the steady torchlight. The first was that Brows was
separated from the group, guarded by four Imperial soldiers with four guardsmen
to one side looking at them and him furiously. The Fear Squad stood near the
front of the first wagon, near the oxen. Apparently draft animals weren’t smart
enough to be afraid of the scaazi. A large squad of soldiers, possibly as many
as thirty Hoyle estimated, were surrounding the area, guarding the prisoners. He
noticed two bodies of Goralon soldiers lying a short distance away with
quarrels in their backs, lifeblood slowly spreading along the flag-stoned
courtyard. Several veklian slaves moved towards the bodies of the dead
soldiers under the watch of a task master holding a whip.
The veklians were waist high, dark skinned humanoids with no
body hair and thick, tough, scaly hide. Their eyes were all black and they had
a small vestigial tail a handspan long, and recesses for ears. The Empire had
enslaved the race to do the dirty jobs no one else wanted to do. The
taskmaster’s whip cracked several times near them as they began to drag the
bodies away.
Hoyle noticed several dark doorways leading further into
the fortress, and the one large gate tower they entered the courtyard through
blocked by the thick portcullis.
One of the black robed Rak’soraa leaned in to talk to the
officer Hoyle had singled out by his voice, the Rak’soraa’s glowing yellow eyes
focused on him from the depths of his hood. The officer paled slightly as he
listened, looked at Hoyle and ordered, “Put him with the other one. He’s going
topside.”
Hoyle rubbed his jaw with his tied hands as he was prodded
towards the group guarding Brows. “We meet again,” Hoyle quipped to Brows, who
was also unarmed with his hands tied. A hard smack across the back of his head
nearly knocked him to the ground.
“No talking unless asked a direct question!” brayed one of
the younger City Guards, his voice just out of puberty. Hoyle looked back at
him with a look of warning, and the young guard stepped back involuntarily
before checking himself. The guard captain smirked at his subordinate but
stepped forward with a hand on the pommel of his sword.
“Are we going to have any trouble out of you?” the captain
inquired of Hoyle with a glint in his eye, his breath frosting in the air.
“Not tonight,” Hoyle replied. He noticed several cuts on
Brows face, and a more recent bruise around his left eye as the man glared at
him. The former were most likely from Salrissa, the latter from these soldiers.
He bent slightly and rubbed his hands on his legs to try and get circulation
and warmth back into his fingers. The ropes were very tight.
He watched as the remainder of the prisoners were led to a
sturdy oak door at the side of the courtyard. They were forced through the
door into darkness, a group of eight city guards escorting them. Two veklians
followed behind. The Imperial soldiers watched warily as the remaining guardsmen
surrounded Brows and Hoyle, two carrying full sets of chains. The ropes were
removed roughly by the guards and replaced by chains linking each hand to each
other, in addition to the chain that was clasped to each ankle. Hoyle gasped
as the cold steel was clamped around his wrists. The two of them were able to
move their feet enough to climb stairs awkwardly, but running was completely
out of the question.
Hoyle caught Brows eye, and raised one eyebrow. Brows just
glared death back at him. He wondered exactly why Brows was mad at him. After
all, it wasn't like he had set Brows up to steal something valuable and then
try to kill him. That was why he was mad at Brows after all. Was he mad about
me setting Salrissa on him. Or was it because the City Guard descended on the
tower. But
quietly as he could manage and moved toward the area directed. He noticed
several things in the steady torchlight. The first was that Brows was
separated from the group, guarded by four Imperial soldiers with four guardsmen
to one side looking at them and him furiously. The Fear Squad stood near the
front of the first wagon, near the oxen. Apparently draft animals weren’t smart
enough to be afraid of the scaazi. A large squad of soldiers, possibly as many
as thirty Hoyle estimated, were surrounding the area, guarding the prisoners. He
noticed two bodies of Goralon soldiers lying a short distance away with
quarrels in their backs, lifeblood slowly spreading along the flag-stoned
courtyard. Several veklian slaves moved towards the bodies of the dead
soldiers under the watch of a task master holding a whip.
The veklians were waist high, dark skinned humanoids with no
body hair and thick, tough, scaly hide. Their eyes were all black and they had
a small vestigial tail a handspan long, and recesses for ears. The Empire had
enslaved the race to do the dirty jobs no one else wanted to do. The
taskmaster’s whip cracked several times near them as they began to drag the
bodies away.
Hoyle noticed several dark doorways leading further into
the fortress, and the one large gate tower they entered the courtyard through
blocked by the thick portcullis.
One of the black robed Rak’soraa leaned in to talk to the
officer Hoyle had singled out by his voice, the Rak’soraa’s glowing yellow eyes
focused on him from the depths of his hood. The officer paled slightly as he
listened, looked at Hoyle and ordered, “Put him with the other one. He’s going
topside.”
Hoyle rubbed his jaw with his tied hands as he was prodded
towards the group guarding Brows. “We meet again,” Hoyle quipped to Brows, who
was also unarmed with his hands tied. A hard smack across the back of his head
nearly knocked him to the ground.
“No talking unless asked a direct question!” brayed one of
the younger City Guards, his voice just out of puberty. Hoyle looked back at
him with a look of warning, and the young guard stepped back involuntarily
before checking himself. The guard captain smirked at his subordinate but
stepped forward with a hand on the pommel of his sword.
“Are we going to have any trouble out of you?” the captain
inquired of Hoyle with a glint in his eye, his breath frosting in the air.
“Not tonight,” Hoyle replied. He noticed several cuts on
Brows face, and a more recent bruise around his left eye as the man glared at
him. The former were most likely from Salrissa, the latter from these soldiers.
He bent slightly and rubbed his hands on his legs to try and get circulation
and warmth back into his fingers. The ropes were very tight.
He watched as the remainder of the prisoners were led to a
sturdy oak door at the side of the courtyard. They were forced through the
door into darkness, a group of eight city guards escorting them. Two veklians
followed behind. The Imperial soldiers watched warily as the remaining guardsmen
surrounded Brows and Hoyle, two carrying full sets of chains. The ropes were
removed roughly by the guards and replaced by chains linking each hand to each
other, in addition to the chain that was clasped to each ankle. Hoyle gasped
as the cold steel was clamped around his wrists. The two of them were able to
move their feet enough to climb stairs awkwardly, but running was completely
out of the question.
Hoyle caught Brows eye, and raised one eyebrow. Brows just
glared death back at him. He wondered exactly why Brows was mad at him. After
all, it wasn't like he had set Brows up to steal something valuable and then
try to kill him. That was why he was mad at Brows after all. Was he mad about
me setting Salrissa on him. Or was it because the City Guard descended on the
tower. But
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