Before They Are Hanged Read Online Free PDF Page A

coddled, and utterly spoiled his whole life! That boy and the real world are entire strangers to one another!”
    “Must he have a separate command, sir?”
    The Lord Marshal rubbed at his eyes with his thick fingers. “Unfortunately, he must. The Closed Council have been most specific on that point. They are concerned that the King is in poor health, and that his heir is seen as an utter fool and wastrel by the public. They hope we might win some great victory here, so they can heap the credit on the Prince. Then they’ll ship him back to Adua, glowing with the glamour of the battlefield, ready to become the kind of King the peasants love.”
    Burr paused for a moment, and looked down at the floor. “I’ve done all I can to keep Ladisla out of trouble. I’ve put him where I think the Northmen aren’t, and with any luck won’t ever be. But war is anything but a predictable business. Ladisla might actually be called upon to fight. That’s why I need someone to look over his shoulder. Someone with experience in the field. Someone as tenacious and hard-working as his joke of a staff are soft and lazy. Someone who might stop the Prince blundering into trouble.” He looked up from under his heavy brows.
    West felt a horrible sinking sensation in his guts. “Me?”
    “I’m afraid so. There’s no one I’d rather keep, but the Prince has asked for you personally.”
    “For me, sir? But I’m no courtier! I’m not even a nobleman!”
    Burr snorted. “Aside from me, Ladisla is probably the one man in this army who doesn’t care whose son you are. He’s the heir to the throne! Nobleman or beggar, we’re all equally far below him.”
    “But why me?”
    “Because you’re a fighter. First through the breach at Ulrioch and all that. You’ve seen action, and plenty of it. You’ve a fighter’s reputation, West, and the Prince wants one himself. That’s why.” Burr fished a letter from his jacket and handed it across. “Maybe this will help to sweeten the medicine.”
    West broke the seal, unfolded the thick paper, scanned the few lines of neat writing. When he had finished, he read it again, just to be sure. He looked up. “It’s a promotion.”
    “I know what it is. I arranged it. Maybe they’ll take you a little more seriously with an extra star on your jacket, maybe they won’t. Either way, you deserve it.”
    “Thank you, sir,” said West numbly.
    “What, for the worst job in the army?” Burr laughed, and gave him a fatherly clap on the shoulder. “You’ll be missed, and that’s a fact. I’m riding out to inspect the first regiment. A commander should show his face, I’ve always thought. Care to join me, Colonel?”

    Snow was falling by the time they rode out through the city gates. White specks blowing on the wind, melting as soon as they touched the road, the trees, the coat of West’s horse, the armour of the guards that followed them.
    “Snow,” Burr grumbled over his shoulder. “Snow already. Isn’t that a little early in the year?”
    “Very early, sir, but it’s cold enough.” West took one hand from his reins to pull his coat tighter round his neck. “Colder than usual, for the end of autumn.”
    “It’ll be a damn sight colder up north of the Cumnur, I’ll be bound.”
    “Yes, sir, and it won’t be getting any warmer now.”
    “Could be a harsh winter, eh, Colonel?”
    “Very likely, sir.” Colonel? Colonel West? The words still seemed strange together, even in his own mind. No one could ever have dreamed a commoner’s son would go so far. Himself least of all.
    “A long, harsh winter,” Burr was musing. “We need to catch Bethod quickly. Catch him and put a quick end to him, before we all freeze.” He frowned at the trees as they slipped by, frowned up at the flecks of snow eddying around them, frowned over at West. “Bad roads, bad ground, bad weather. Not the best situation, eh, Colonel?”
    “No, sir,” said West glumly, but it was his own situation that was