Read Empire in Black and Gold Online
Authors: Adrian Tchaikovsky
Tags: #Spy stories, #Fantasy - General, #Fantasy, #War stories, #Fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #Fiction - Fantasy
Empire in Black and Gold
First published 2008 by Tor
This electronic edition published 2008 by Tor
an imprint of Pan Macmillan Ltd
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ISBN 978-0-230-73646-7 in Adobe Reader format
ISBN 978-0-230-73645-0 in Adobe Digital Editions format
ISBN 978-0-230-73647-4 in Mobipocket format
Copyright © Adrian Czaijkowski 2008
The right of Adrian Czaijkowski to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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To Annie, without whom many things
would not have been possible
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I owe a great deal to a great many people whose inspiration, aid and encouragement have made this book possible; more than can reasonably be named in such a short space. However, I would like to thank: the support of my family and extended family; twice-yearly meetings of the Dead-liners writing group in York; swordfights and archery practice in the wilds of Reading; late-night drinking sessions in the stews of Oxford; and the oldest and best of friends, Wayne, Martin and Shane, because they’ve been there from the start.
And I would like to thank especially my agent Simon Kavanagh, and to thank Peter Lavery, Jon Mitchell, Michael Bhaskar, and everyone else at Macmillan who collectively made all this possible.
Short Stories
Illustrations
After Stenwold picked up the telescope for the ninth time, Marius said, ‘You will know first from the sound.’
The burly man stopped and peered down at him, telescope still half-poised. From their third-storey retreat the city walls were a mass of black and red, the defenders hurrying into place atop the ramparts and about the gates.
‘How do you mean, the sound?’
Marius, sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, looked up at him. ‘What you hear now is men braving themselves for a fight. When it starts, they will be quiet, just for a moment. They will brace themselves. Then it will be a different kind of noise.’ It was a long speech for him.
Even from here Stenwold could hear a constant murmur from the gates. He lowered the telescope reluctantly. ‘There’ll be a great almighty noise when they come in, if all goes according to plan.’
Marius shrugged. ‘Then listen for that.’
Below there was a quick patter of feet as someone ascended the stairs. Stenwold twitched but Marius remarked simply, ‘Tisamon,’ and went back to staring at nothing. In the room beneath them there were nine men and women dressed in the same chain hauberk and helm that Marius wore, and looking enough like him to be family. Stenwold knew their minds were meshed together, touching each other’s and touching Marius too, thoughts passing freely back and forth between them. He could not imagine how it must be, for them.
Tisamon burst in, tall and pale, with thunder in his expression. Even as Stenwold opened his mouth he snapped out, ‘No sign. She’s not come.’
‘Well there are always—’ Stenwold started, but the tall man cut him off.
‘I cannot think of any reason why she wouldn’t come, except one,’ Tisamon spat. Seldom, so very seldom, had Stenwold seen this man angry and, whenever he had been, there was always blood. Tisamon was Mantis-kinden, whose people had, when time was young, been the most deadly killers of the Lowlands. Even though their time of greatness had passed, they were still not to be toyed with. They were matchless, whether in single duel or a skirmish of swords, and Tisamon was a master, the deadliest fighter Stenwold had ever known.
‘She has betrayed us,’ Tisamon stated simply. Abruptly all expression was gone from his angular features but that was only because it had fled inwards.
