Read Online The Crown of the Usurper by Gav Thorpe - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gav Thorpe
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Muuril. He took a few steps towards the next tapestry and then stopped. "Hang on, yes I did."
The two of them jogged to the door and stopped. Gelthius held his breath as he listened, trying not to hear the thump of his heart in his chest.
There were definitely voices drifting up the stairwell. They were speaking quietly, and Gelthius could hear the slow slap of sandals on the steps. He darted a look at Muuril, who shrugged and took a step into the corridor before shrinking back. There were shadows on the stairway, at the bottom of the last flight.
Gelthius jabbed his thumb back into the room and the two of them stepped out of sight, as quietly as they could manage in the ill-fitting wargear. The voices were very close now and came straight towards the open doors.
The two legionnaires hurried to stand beside the nearest wall, about ten paces apart. Gelthius muttered a call to attention and the pair brought their spears down with a thump, keeping their gazes fixed ahead. Trying not to turn his head to look, Gelthius moved his gaze sideways towards the door as the conversation suddenly silenced and the sound of feet on stone became the thud of steps on the wooden floor of the great hall.
"We're running out of places to speak." Gelthius heard a reedy voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a small, thin man pacing into the hall, wearing white robes of office: Asuhas. His hair was oiled back across a balding pate, and his top lip and chin were darkened by a wispy covering of hair. The man's fingers fidgeted constantly, playing with the creases in his robe and the rope of grey and green cords that served as a belt. "I don't know why they have to be here, the Brotherhood made their position very clear and I agreed with them."
"This lot are everywhere, don't pay them any heed," said the governor's companion.
Gelthius already knew the voice before a large man in a bright red shirt and checked Salphorian trousers strode into view. Gelthius choked back a gasp as he laid eyes on Anglhan Periusis. The former landship owner stuck his thumbs between his belt and his generous gut and turned towards the two legionnaires.
For a moment Gelthius was like a rabbit paralysed in front of the hunter's bow. He could not stop himself meeting Anglhan's gaze, and the two looked at each other straight on. Swallowing hard, Gelthius managed to look away, staring blankly ahead, though his hands were sweating profusely on his spear and shield grip. He heard Muuril shuffle his feet, obviously recognising the traitorous governor as well.
The third captain continued to feel Anglhan's stare on him for a few moments, as his heart started beating quickly, hammering against the inside of his breastplate. It was impossible that the former governor would not recognise him; Gelthius had spent nearly twenty years in the man's service.
"How odd," said Anglhan. The boards creaked under his heavy tread as he took several steps towards Gelthius. The legionnaire forced himself to relax the grip on his spear, ready to lunge forward and drive the tip into Anglhan's face. He noticed Muuril shifting his weight slightly out of the corner of his eye.
"What's odd?" asked the governor.
"This tapestry shows a legion being defeated," Anglhan said, pointing at the hanging behind Gelthius. "They're being massacred!"
"The Battle of Sulunnin. Out of the way, there," said Asuhas. He flapped a hand at Gelthius and Muuril, who moved aside. "Step out of the way so we can see properly. Yes, that was a rough one for the Sixteenth and Eighteenth. Early snows caught them by surprise, and they were ambushed by a tribal coalition in the foothills before they could build a proper winter fort."
"But why celebrate a defeat in this way?" said Anglhan. Gelthius was not sure, but he thought for a moment that the old landship captain actually winked at him as he walked past.
"It is a memorial, not a celebration," said Asuhas.
The two of them jogged to the door and stopped. Gelthius held his breath as he listened, trying not to hear the thump of his heart in his chest.
There were definitely voices drifting up the stairwell. They were speaking quietly, and Gelthius could hear the slow slap of sandals on the steps. He darted a look at Muuril, who shrugged and took a step into the corridor before shrinking back. There were shadows on the stairway, at the bottom of the last flight.
Gelthius jabbed his thumb back into the room and the two of them stepped out of sight, as quietly as they could manage in the ill-fitting wargear. The voices were very close now and came straight towards the open doors.
The two legionnaires hurried to stand beside the nearest wall, about ten paces apart. Gelthius muttered a call to attention and the pair brought their spears down with a thump, keeping their gazes fixed ahead. Trying not to turn his head to look, Gelthius moved his gaze sideways towards the door as the conversation suddenly silenced and the sound of feet on stone became the thud of steps on the wooden floor of the great hall.
"We're running out of places to speak." Gelthius heard a reedy voice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a small, thin man pacing into the hall, wearing white robes of office: Asuhas. His hair was oiled back across a balding pate, and his top lip and chin were darkened by a wispy covering of hair. The man's fingers fidgeted constantly, playing with the creases in his robe and the rope of grey and green cords that served as a belt. "I don't know why they have to be here, the Brotherhood made their position very clear and I agreed with them."
"This lot are everywhere, don't pay them any heed," said the governor's companion.
Gelthius already knew the voice before a large man in a bright red shirt and checked Salphorian trousers strode into view. Gelthius choked back a gasp as he laid eyes on Anglhan Periusis. The former landship owner stuck his thumbs between his belt and his generous gut and turned towards the two legionnaires.
For a moment Gelthius was like a rabbit paralysed in front of the hunter's bow. He could not stop himself meeting Anglhan's gaze, and the two looked at each other straight on. Swallowing hard, Gelthius managed to look away, staring blankly ahead, though his hands were sweating profusely on his spear and shield grip. He heard Muuril shuffle his feet, obviously recognising the traitorous governor as well.
The third captain continued to feel Anglhan's stare on him for a few moments, as his heart started beating quickly, hammering against the inside of his breastplate. It was impossible that the former governor would not recognise him; Gelthius had spent nearly twenty years in the man's service.
"How odd," said Anglhan. The boards creaked under his heavy tread as he took several steps towards Gelthius. The legionnaire forced himself to relax the grip on his spear, ready to lunge forward and drive the tip into Anglhan's face. He noticed Muuril shifting his weight slightly out of the corner of his eye.
"What's odd?" asked the governor.
"This tapestry shows a legion being defeated," Anglhan said, pointing at the hanging behind Gelthius. "They're being massacred!"
"The Battle of Sulunnin. Out of the way, there," said Asuhas. He flapped a hand at Gelthius and Muuril, who moved aside. "Step out of the way so we can see properly. Yes, that was a rough one for the Sixteenth and Eighteenth. Early snows caught them by surprise, and they were ambushed by a tribal coalition in the foothills before they could build a proper winter fort."
"But why celebrate a defeat in this way?" said Anglhan. Gelthius was not sure, but he thought for a moment that the old landship captain actually winked at him as he walked past.
"It is a memorial, not a celebration," said Asuhas.
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