Read Online The Iron Wolves by Andy Remic - Free Book Online Page B

followed another twenty men. But what was most disturbing was they all carried swords, unsheathed, and their eyes were hard as steel.
    “What is this outrage?” boomed Lord Deltari, huge frame waddling forward to meet the intrusion. “You, sir, what is your name? Identify yourself! You dare enter the Guild House with drawn weapons? I shall see you hang for this, in the name of the King!”
    The captain halted and relaxed and his eyes raked the room, finally coming to rest on Lord Deltari, face puffed and red, his blood up after too much port and brandy, his velvet jacket slightly skewed.
    The man was tall, powerful and had a commanding stance. Beneath his helm was neat white hair, a neatly trimmed white moustache and a hard face with tracings of pale old scars beneath a dark tan which spoke of many years in the field. “I,” he said, once more scanning the room of wealthy spice barons and lords, “am Captain Dokta; Captain of the King’s Guard.”
    A sigh escaped many present. Captain Dokta was infamous for having committed many acts of cruelty the length and breadth of Vagandrak over the last few years; acts which had, supposedly, gone unpunished, and were maybe even sanctioned by the king.
    “I… I…” stuttered Deltari.
    “I what, you fat buffoon? Well, I’ll tell you I what,” snarled Dokta suddenly, and at this point he gave a quick glance towards Great Dale, who stood up and gave a solemn meaningful nod, “this entire room is under arrest in the name of King Yoon. I have been sent here to serve you notice, gentlemen.”
    “Arrested?” managed Deltari, huffing and puffing, spittle on his chin. “But that is preposterous! On what charges? Come on, man, spit it out!”
    “On the count of treason,” said Dokta, voice low, words little more than a hot exhalation.
    Silence fell across the Guild Hall like ash.
    Lord Deltari staggered forward. “Ridiculous!” he bellowed, face frowning, his pompousness and affront returning like a surge. “An absolute mockery to the name of justice! I demand…” and his hand came up, finger poking Sergeant Dokta in the chest, but his sentence got no further.
    Dokta’s sword flickered up, removing Lord Deltari’s hand at the wrist. The severed hand slapped on rich rugs, index finger twitching, jewelled fingers sparkling, and blood pumped out as Deltari cried out, staggered back clutching his stump, then fell over unceremoniously. There came a shocked hush, before servants rushed to their master’s aid.
    Great Dale moved to stand behind Dokta and his armed men.
    Captain Dokta swept the room with narrowed eyes, and slowly the group began to back away. To the rear of the hall, several spice merchants and lords had tried to slip from the Guild Hall unnoticed, only to discover the rearward doors had been barricaded.
    “You have all been condemned by King Yoon,” said Dokta, voice clear across the finely tuned acoustics of the Hall. They carried to every guild member. They carried to every frightened man and woman, no matter what their station.
    More men appeared behind the King’s Guard, and they each carried wooden flasks, several with barrels, which they rolled silently across thick rugs and carpets. They moved forward and began pouring oil over furniture, carpets, and splashing it up the walls.
    Lord Rokroth surged forward this time. “Captain! What, in the name of the Three Gods and the Holy Mother, are you doing ?”
    “You have all been found guilty of treason. Your sentence is to burn,” said Dokta, as barrels were cast down and smashed with axes. Nostrils twitched. A flaming torch was brought forward; the gathered annual meeting of spice merchants were looking extremely panicked now. Several had drawn decorative sabres, but most were plump and old, and even if they had been swordsmen in their day, wealth and hedonistic excess had stolen any skill they might once have possessed.
    The brand was tossed forward, and a whoosh filled the hall as a curtain of flame