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Nor did the Rondians tell him all their plan, just the part he needed to know so that he could deploy overwhelming forces against the Duke of Argundy during the crusade. They were not allies just enemies in collusion. The emir didn’t give any definitive answers, of course, and Gurvon would have been surprised if he had. Most were logistical: could he field an army big enough to destroy Echor’s? How many magi did he have? Was he sure he could overcome Meiros’ faction within the Ordo Costruo? He answered with practised ease, replying to some, not all. Rashid had listened patiently, asked good questions, then he had allowed them to question him. He reminded Gyle of a cobra swaying to a snake-charmer on the streets of Hebusalim. In contrast to the dour formality of Rondian courtiers, when he’d removed his cloak it had been as if a peacock had unfurled its tail-feathers: his clothes were almost gaudy, with glittering gems woven into the fabric that were nearly as bright as his own mesmerising green eyes. The enemy.Įmir Rashid Mubarak of Halli’kut was quite likely the first Keshi ever to enter this room. Mostly though, her eyes were on the newcomer: the alien. She was studying Vult, and Gyle himself too occasionally their eyes met, appraising each other. Her attention wasn’t on those familiar to her – iron-faced Kaltus Korion, who was to take over the command of the Crusade next year when Echor died Tomas Betillon, who would troubleshoot the inevitable crises behind the lines Calan Dubrayle, who would be safe here in Pallas, counting the profits, and Grand Prelate Wurther, who would be wherever the food was. Her matronly face was a study in concentration as she listened to Vult, but her eyes roved continually, noting reactions, filing away the tiny behaviours of everyone present. She had never needed eye-catching beauty her sheer presence and veiled intensity were sufficient. It was Mater-Imperia Lucia who dominated the room.
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Yet if what we’ve just outlined works, we’ll have destroyed a man who’d make a far better ruler and widowed a quarter of a million of his people – and all in your name, Constant Sacrecour. Every few seconds he glanced at his mother, as if seeking approval.
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The weight of the crown furrowed his brow and hunched his shoulders. Who would have imagined such a gathering?Įmperor Constant had been just a child then, and perhaps a life in the shadow of more powerful figures had undermined him, made him the weak-kneed young man he was now, startled by shadows and afraid even of those closest to him. Two Noromen who’d risen against the emperor only seventeen years ago, sitting in that same emperor’s inner sanctum and presenting him with a plan to cement his rule. Gurvon Gyle let his gaze drift around the room while his countryman Belonius Vult restated the plans for the invasion of Kesh and the entrapment and destruction of Echor Borodium, Duke of Argundy, and his army. You can find this and many other great books at: Also by David Hair Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.Ī CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British LibraryĮbook ISBN 978 1 78087 204 9 Print ISBN 978 1 78087 202 5 The moral right of David Hair to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.Īll rights reserved. This edition first published in 2014 by Quercus Editions Ltd 55 Baker Street 7th Floor, South Block London W1U 8EW Prologue: The Vexations of Emperor Constant (Part Three)įirst published in Great Britain in 2014 by Quercus.