Read Online The Long War 01 - The Black Guard by A.J. Smith - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: A.J. Smith
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help,’ Utha said as they reached the top of the stairs.
‘For what purpose, brother?’ Torian queried.
‘Just for the sake of appearances, really. It never hurts to have lesser men who can be ordered around.’
‘So, we’re no longer making subtle enquiries?’ Torian asked.
Utha stopped on the stairs and directed an ironic expression at the Purple cleric. ‘Do you really think the enquiries you’ve made so far have been subtle? You carry a sword and wear purple, brother, nothing you do is subtle in the eyes of the common people. We are two clerics of the One; a squad of watchmen will do very little to increase our visibility.’
Torian considered it, but Utha detected no disagreement. ‘The Kasbah will be unfriendly no matter how many men we take. Perhaps a little backup would be wise,’ he conceded.
‘Sensible, brother, very sensible indeed,’ Utha replied.
They resumed walking down the wooden steps and entered the vaulted common room below. The squad of watchmen Utha had passed as he walked through earlier were still seated at the same table. Their breakfast had been cleared away and they were preparing to leave. Five men were seated round the circular wooden table, laughing at a joke the youngest of them had told. It took a moment for them to register the presence of the clerics, their laughter masking the sound of metal armour on wood. When they noticed, they leant in and began whispering quietly to each other.
‘Allow me, brother,’ Utha said confidently.
‘There is no need to scare them. Could we perhaps proceed without your customary brand of coercion?’ Torian asked.
Utha considered responding, but decided to smile wickedly instead. He crossed the tavern floor quickly, saying a silent prayer as he walked under the banner of the Black church hanging from the ceiling. The banner, with its skeletal hand holding a goblet, was smaller than the others, and it hung in its customary place away from the other banners. It was considered bad luck to hang the heraldry of all six clerical orders together, and the Black banner was traditionally the one that was separate.
As he approached the watchmen they locked their eyes on the wooden table in front of them, not daring to look up. Utha enjoyed their irrational fear and decided to stand over them for a moment before speaking. He knew that the moment’s pause would cause them to remember a thousand stories they had heard about the Black clerics, and to imagine a thousand more.
Utha waited just long enough to make all of them feel uncomfortable before he spoke. ‘You men will be coming with me,’ he said softly.
The oldest of the watchmen, a man of perhaps forty years, glanced round the faces of his squad. ‘My lord, we are due on street duty this morning,’ he said nervously.
‘What is your name, sergeant?’
‘Clement, my lord,’ he replied.
‘Well, Sergeant Clement, your street duty will have to wait. You are required to assist me. Now, get your men up, we’re travelling to the Kasbah of Haq outside the walls.’ Utha spoke plainly and turned back to Torian without giving Clement any further chance to argue.
Torian was smiling with tolerance, though Utha knew that he would disapprove of the theatrical display. ‘Not trying to instil a sense of loyalty in your troops then, brother?’ Torian asked.
‘Loyalty is overrated; I prefer fear,’ Utha replied.
The five watchmen stood up slowly, sharing glances and whispered words as they straightened their chain mail and made sure their weapons were in place. Clement carried a heavy mace at his hip and a small crossbow, and the youngest of them had two short swords, one protruding at each shoulder. The other three all carried crossbows and large knives. They wore the white eagle of Tiris on their chests over dull steel chain mail. Utha was impressed enough to walk past them in review and nod approvingly.
‘Gentlemen, if you would follow our lead,’ he said with authority, before turning
‘For what purpose, brother?’ Torian queried.
‘Just for the sake of appearances, really. It never hurts to have lesser men who can be ordered around.’
‘So, we’re no longer making subtle enquiries?’ Torian asked.
Utha stopped on the stairs and directed an ironic expression at the Purple cleric. ‘Do you really think the enquiries you’ve made so far have been subtle? You carry a sword and wear purple, brother, nothing you do is subtle in the eyes of the common people. We are two clerics of the One; a squad of watchmen will do very little to increase our visibility.’
Torian considered it, but Utha detected no disagreement. ‘The Kasbah will be unfriendly no matter how many men we take. Perhaps a little backup would be wise,’ he conceded.
‘Sensible, brother, very sensible indeed,’ Utha replied.
They resumed walking down the wooden steps and entered the vaulted common room below. The squad of watchmen Utha had passed as he walked through earlier were still seated at the same table. Their breakfast had been cleared away and they were preparing to leave. Five men were seated round the circular wooden table, laughing at a joke the youngest of them had told. It took a moment for them to register the presence of the clerics, their laughter masking the sound of metal armour on wood. When they noticed, they leant in and began whispering quietly to each other.
‘Allow me, brother,’ Utha said confidently.
‘There is no need to scare them. Could we perhaps proceed without your customary brand of coercion?’ Torian asked.
Utha considered responding, but decided to smile wickedly instead. He crossed the tavern floor quickly, saying a silent prayer as he walked under the banner of the Black church hanging from the ceiling. The banner, with its skeletal hand holding a goblet, was smaller than the others, and it hung in its customary place away from the other banners. It was considered bad luck to hang the heraldry of all six clerical orders together, and the Black banner was traditionally the one that was separate.
As he approached the watchmen they locked their eyes on the wooden table in front of them, not daring to look up. Utha enjoyed their irrational fear and decided to stand over them for a moment before speaking. He knew that the moment’s pause would cause them to remember a thousand stories they had heard about the Black clerics, and to imagine a thousand more.
Utha waited just long enough to make all of them feel uncomfortable before he spoke. ‘You men will be coming with me,’ he said softly.
The oldest of the watchmen, a man of perhaps forty years, glanced round the faces of his squad. ‘My lord, we are due on street duty this morning,’ he said nervously.
‘What is your name, sergeant?’
‘Clement, my lord,’ he replied.
‘Well, Sergeant Clement, your street duty will have to wait. You are required to assist me. Now, get your men up, we’re travelling to the Kasbah of Haq outside the walls.’ Utha spoke plainly and turned back to Torian without giving Clement any further chance to argue.
Torian was smiling with tolerance, though Utha knew that he would disapprove of the theatrical display. ‘Not trying to instil a sense of loyalty in your troops then, brother?’ Torian asked.
‘Loyalty is overrated; I prefer fear,’ Utha replied.
The five watchmen stood up slowly, sharing glances and whispered words as they straightened their chain mail and made sure their weapons were in place. Clement carried a heavy mace at his hip and a small crossbow, and the youngest of them had two short swords, one protruding at each shoulder. The other three all carried crossbows and large knives. They wore the white eagle of Tiris on their chests over dull steel chain mail. Utha was impressed enough to walk past them in review and nod approvingly.
‘Gentlemen, if you would follow our lead,’ he said with authority, before turning
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