Ice and Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

shouted, beginning to struggle again ‘You can’t do this! You…’
    A blow from one of the men holding him knocked him down onto the cobbles.
    ‘Bring him here!’
    The two guards grabbed Wolfe again and dragged him on his knees, until he was at Rosten’s feet.
    Rosten’s voice was almost hysterical now. He half-shouted, half-screamed, his sword arm punctuating the words. ‘You are scum, Wolfe! Faceless! Because of you your fellow officers have fallen under suspicion! Because of you, all here have been dishonoured!’ Rosten shuddered violently and spat on the kneeling man’s head. ‘You have shamed your Banner! You have shamed your family name. And you have disgraced your ancestors!’
    Rosten stepped back and raised the sword. ‘Hold the prisoner down!’
    Ben caught his breath. He saw how Wolfe’s leg muscles flexed impotently as he tried to scrabble to his feet; how he squirmed in the two men’s grip, trying to get away. A third soldier joined the other two, forcing Wolfe down with blows and curses. Then one of them grabbed Wolfe’s topknot and, with a savage yank that almost pulled the man up off his knees, stretched his neck out, ready for the sword.
    Wolfe was screaming now, his voice hoarse, breathless. ‘No! No! Kuan Yin, Goddess of Mercy, help me! I did nothing! Nothing!’ His face was torn with terror, his mouth twisted, his eyes moving frantically in their sockets, pleading for mercy.
    Ben saw Rosten’s body tauten like a compressed coil. Then, with a sharp hiss of breath, he brought the sword down sharply.
    Wolfe’s screams stopped instantly. Ben saw the head drop and roll, the body tumble forward like a sack of grain, the arms fall limp.
    Ben looked across at Gosse.
    Gosse had been watching all in silence, his jaw clenched, his neck muscles taut. Now, with a visible shudder, he looked down again, staring at the cobbles.
    Rosten bent down and wiped the sword on the back of Wolfe’s tunic, then straightened, facing Gosse.
    ‘You have something to say, Gosse?’
    Gosse was silent a moment, then he looked up at Rosten. His eyes, which, moments earlier, had been filled with fear and horror, were now clear, almost calm. His hands shook, but he clenched them to control their trembling. He took a deep breath, then another, like a diver about to plunge into the depths, and nodded.
    ‘Speak then. You’ve little time.’
    Gosse hunched his shoulders and lowered his head slightly, in deference to Rosten, but kept his eyes on him. ‘Only this. It is true what you say. I am guilty. Wolfe planned it all, but I acted with him, and there is no excusing my actions. I accept the judgement of my fellow officers and, before I die, beg their forgiveness for having shamed them before the T’ang.’
    Rosten stood there, expecting more, but Gosse had lowered his head. After a moment’s reflection, Rosten gave a small nod, then spoke.
    ‘I cannot speak for all here, but for myself I say this. You were a good soldier, Gosse. And you face death bravely, honestly, as a soldier ought. I cannot prevent your death now, you understand, but I can, at least, change the manner of it.’
    There was a low gasp from the men on either side as Rosten took a pace forward and drew the short sword from his belt and cutting the bonds at Gosse’s wrists, handed it to him.
    Gosse understood at once. His eyes met Rosten’s, bright with gratitude, then looked down at the short sword. With his left hand he tore open the tunic of his uniform and drew up the undershirt, baring the flesh. Then he gripped the handle of the short sword with both hands and turned it, so that the tip was facing his stomach. The two guards released him and stood back. Rosten watched him a moment, then took up his place, just behind Gosse and to one side, the long sword half raised.
    Ben eased forward until his face was pressed against the glass, watching Gosse slow his breathing and focus his whole being upon the blade resting only a hand’s length from his