Read Online The Palace (Bell Mountain Series #6) by Lee Duigon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lee Duigon
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got things really humming around here,” said one of the bandits, as they passed through the gate.
“The new First Prester is a man of vision,” Ysbott said. “Someday there will be other cities in Obann that look like this. Remember, it’s good to be on the winning side.”
“Siding with a lot of murdering tyrants!” Jack thought. Silvertown was the most hideous place he’d ever seen. The people all looked hungry and scared. Many of them wore only rags. Their houses were gone, and now they lived in hovels. “Why, Lord?” he prayed silently. “Why do you let these things be done? Why don’t you stop the people who do them?” He was so incensed by what he saw that he forgot to be afraid, but not for long.
Ysbott and his men made their way to the chamber house. They were almost there when a stout, uncouth-looking man accosted them.
“Who are you, and where are you going?” he said. He looked like a man who wanted to fight.
“I am Ysbott the Snake, from Lintum Forest. We’ve come to see His Grace the First Prester and present him with a prisoner—this boy.” Ysbott nodded, and the man carrying Jack set him down on his feet, keeping a firm grip on his wrist.
“Captain Iolo, I am,” the stout man said. “The First Prester is a very busy man. No one gets to see him unless I say so.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see this prisoner, Captain.”
Iolo spat on the ground, just a little short of Ysbott’s foot. “We’re always getting beggars from Lintum Forest—chased out by Helki, so they come to us. More mouths to feed! But if one of you was to bring us Helki’s head on a spear, then you’d get a proper welcome.”
It struck Jack that this man, obviously Obannese, used to be a soldier. He still carried himself like one. But now he served the enemy. Oh, if only the king and the baron would come here with an army!
“Captain Iolo,” Ysbott said, “I’m sure the First Prester will rejoice when he lays eyes on this prisoner. But to present the lad to you first would be impolite. We don’t want to offend His Grace.”
Iolo chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked like an irritable bull maybe getting ready to charge.
“Wait out here,” he said. He went into the chamber house and shut the door after him.
“Not much of a reception,” one of the bandits muttered.
“Be patient,” Ysbott said.
A few minutes later, Iolo came back out.
“He’ll see you,” he said, “but just you, Ysbott, and the prisoner. The rest of you stay right here.”
Ysbott took Jack by the elbow, with a grip that said he’d twist his arm and break it if Jack gave him any trouble. Iolo led them into the chamber house.
They went through the assembly hall, a big, empty space like the inside of a barn, devoid of decoration. The light, what there was of it, was murky. Jack smelled animal fat and guessed they must be short of decent oil for the lamps. Iolo led them into one chamber, then another, and finally into a room where there was a rug on the floor, more light, less of a bad smell, and two men waiting.
One was a little, bow-legged man with a peach-shaped head and dark eyes shaped like almonds. He wore a buckskin shirt and leggings, but Jack recognized him as someone from a faraway Heathen country in the East.
The other was tall, gaunt, clean-shaven, with shifty pale eyes and thin, pale lips. He dressed in black, with a scarlet ribbon draped over one shoulder and across his chest—Temple colors, like Martis used to wear when he was a servant of the Temple. But Martis’ colors were real, and this man’s were a fraud. Iolo bowed to him.
“My Lord First Prester,” he said, “this is Ysbott from Lintum Forest, with his prisoner.” Ysbott bowed deeply; Jack was surprised he knew how. The false First Prester nodded to him. Ysbott twisted Jack’s arm and made him bow, too.
“I’m done for!” Jack thought. “No
“The new First Prester is a man of vision,” Ysbott said. “Someday there will be other cities in Obann that look like this. Remember, it’s good to be on the winning side.”
“Siding with a lot of murdering tyrants!” Jack thought. Silvertown was the most hideous place he’d ever seen. The people all looked hungry and scared. Many of them wore only rags. Their houses were gone, and now they lived in hovels. “Why, Lord?” he prayed silently. “Why do you let these things be done? Why don’t you stop the people who do them?” He was so incensed by what he saw that he forgot to be afraid, but not for long.
Ysbott and his men made their way to the chamber house. They were almost there when a stout, uncouth-looking man accosted them.
“Who are you, and where are you going?” he said. He looked like a man who wanted to fight.
“I am Ysbott the Snake, from Lintum Forest. We’ve come to see His Grace the First Prester and present him with a prisoner—this boy.” Ysbott nodded, and the man carrying Jack set him down on his feet, keeping a firm grip on his wrist.
“Captain Iolo, I am,” the stout man said. “The First Prester is a very busy man. No one gets to see him unless I say so.”
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to see this prisoner, Captain.”
Iolo spat on the ground, just a little short of Ysbott’s foot. “We’re always getting beggars from Lintum Forest—chased out by Helki, so they come to us. More mouths to feed! But if one of you was to bring us Helki’s head on a spear, then you’d get a proper welcome.”
It struck Jack that this man, obviously Obannese, used to be a soldier. He still carried himself like one. But now he served the enemy. Oh, if only the king and the baron would come here with an army!
“Captain Iolo,” Ysbott said, “I’m sure the First Prester will rejoice when he lays eyes on this prisoner. But to present the lad to you first would be impolite. We don’t want to offend His Grace.”
Iolo chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked like an irritable bull maybe getting ready to charge.
“Wait out here,” he said. He went into the chamber house and shut the door after him.
“Not much of a reception,” one of the bandits muttered.
“Be patient,” Ysbott said.
A few minutes later, Iolo came back out.
“He’ll see you,” he said, “but just you, Ysbott, and the prisoner. The rest of you stay right here.”
Ysbott took Jack by the elbow, with a grip that said he’d twist his arm and break it if Jack gave him any trouble. Iolo led them into the chamber house.
They went through the assembly hall, a big, empty space like the inside of a barn, devoid of decoration. The light, what there was of it, was murky. Jack smelled animal fat and guessed they must be short of decent oil for the lamps. Iolo led them into one chamber, then another, and finally into a room where there was a rug on the floor, more light, less of a bad smell, and two men waiting.
One was a little, bow-legged man with a peach-shaped head and dark eyes shaped like almonds. He wore a buckskin shirt and leggings, but Jack recognized him as someone from a faraway Heathen country in the East.
The other was tall, gaunt, clean-shaven, with shifty pale eyes and thin, pale lips. He dressed in black, with a scarlet ribbon draped over one shoulder and across his chest—Temple colors, like Martis used to wear when he was a servant of the Temple. But Martis’ colors were real, and this man’s were a fraud. Iolo bowed to him.
“My Lord First Prester,” he said, “this is Ysbott from Lintum Forest, with his prisoner.” Ysbott bowed deeply; Jack was surprised he knew how. The false First Prester nodded to him. Ysbott twisted Jack’s arm and made him bow, too.
“I’m done for!” Jack thought. “No
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