Read Online White Wolf by David Gemmell - Free Book Online

Yet was it not evil for a score of healthy men to beat an elderly priest almost to the point of death? Was it not evil for women in the crowd to jeer and scream for them to “kick his ugly face” as Marja, the baker’s wife had?
    “She always was a sad and sour woman,” Aunt Athyla had said—which was a remarkable thing to hear from the spinster. Aunt Athyla never spoke badly about anyone.
    It was all most unsettling. Rabalyn had heard the gossip that travelers brought to the town. In the capital, Mellicane, huge crowds were said to have burned churches and hanged priests. The king’s advisor, Lord Ironmask, had ordered the arrests of scores of ministers, who had then been executed and their lands forfeited to the state. As the government began to crumble, Ironmask had appointed Arbiters, and these had traveled all across Tantria, rooting out “foreign inspired” traitors.
    When Rabalyn had first heard of these events he had thought them generally to be good. Traitors
should
be rooted out. Now, however, he had seen Old Labbers branded a traitor, and he was confused.
    Then there were the constant tales of battles fought between loyal troops and the vile enemy from Dospilis and their evil allies, the Datians. These battles were always won by Tantria, and yet each battle seemed to get closer. He had asked Old Labbers about this one day. “How can it be that when we win we draw back, and the defeated enemy moves forward?”
    “A little more reading might be in order, young Rabalyn,” said Labbers. “In particular I would refer you to the historical works of Appalanus. He wrote: “Truth in war is like a maiden pure. She must be protected at all times within a fortress of lies.” Does that help?”
    Rabalyn had nodded and thanked him, though he had no idea what the old man was talking about.
    As he lay in his bed he could smell the smoke from the hearth. He would have to borrow Barik’s brooms and clear the chimney of soot. Pulling a blanket over his shoulders, he closed his eyes and tried again to sleep.
    His mind was too full. He kept thinking of Todhe. Perhaps if he just accepted a beating from Todhe and his friends it would all blow over. Like for like. Rabalyn doubted it. He had raised the stakes when he assaulted them with the iron rod. Perhaps the Watch would arrest him for it. This was a new and frightening thought. Uncomfortable now, and newly afraid, he sat up and opened his eyes. Immediately they began to sting. Smoke was everywhere. Rabalyn climbed out of his bed and opened the door. The living room was filled with oily smoke, and he saw flames outside the window.
    Coughing and gasping he ran across the living room and pushed open the door to Aunt Athyla’s bedroom. The fire was eating through the window frame, and he could now hear it roaring through the thatched roof above. Stumbling to the bedside, he shook his aunt by the shoulder.
    “Aunt Athyla!” he shouted. “The house is on fire.” His knees buckled, his lungs hot and smoke filled. Grabbing a chair, he hammered it at the burning shutters. They would not give. Dragging a blanket from the bed, he wrapped an edge of it around his hands and tried to lift the blazing wooden locking bar. The fire had warped it too badly. Pulling all the covers from Aunt Athyla, he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her from the bed. Her body hit the floor, and she gave a groan.
    “Wake up!” he screamed. On the verge of panic he began to haul her back into the living room. Fire was now bright here also, and a section of the roof fell into the far corner. The heat was intense. Leaving Athyla he ran to the door, lifted the bar and pushed it. The door would not open. Something had been wedged against it from the outside. Rabalyn could scarcely breathe. Staggering to the one window in the living room, he lifted the shutter bar and pushed open the shutters. Flames were licking at the wood. Scrambling up onto the sill he threw himself out onto the path beyond. Jumping