Instruments of War (Iron Kingdoms Chronicles) Read Online Free PDF Page A

limped down the road, reeking of death, and covered in dried blood and bandages. They had no warbeasts. They had been forced to leave their dead behind without ceremony. Their weapons and armor, much of it broken, was piled upon a wagon.
    Yet, her single decurium had defeated the combined might of a great house’s cohort.
    This was not a pure victory however. Normally when a tyrant is thrown down and a house conquered, that house is absorbed by the victors. That had not been an option here. Makeda felt both relieved and bitter about the results. The Muzkaar army had them completely surrounded, and her ragged survivors would not have stood a chance. Akkad and his reinforcements had never arrived. If they had, all of House Muzkaar would have been in chains.
    Instead, she had received a message from Naram’s successor heir. It had simply read, As you have spared the essence of my father, I will spare you.
    The bloated red sun set over the golden plains. Only two of her officers had lived through the battle. Dakar Urkesh, who stank of the caustic gasses used to drive his reivers, and the seemingly unkillable Primus Zabalam marched beside her. Dakar Barkal had perished, as had the vast majority of his karax.
    “Tell me, Zabalam …” It was a sign of weakness, but she struggled to keep the weariness from her voice. “This was the first battle I have commanded. Does victory always taste so bitter?”
    “Sometimes …” His ruined face was expressionless. “This was a great victory. Glory will be heaped upon your name when word gets back to our House.”
    She was unsure if Zabalam was capable of sarcasm. “Do you mock me, Primus?”
    “I am incapable of mockery. If you believe I do so, say the word and I will cut out my own heart and hand it to you by way of apology.” He looked her in the eye. “The bitterness is only because you were denied your rightful spoils.”
    “We should have crushed all of Muzkaar and looted Kalos, if only Akkad had brought his cohort like he was supposed to,” Urkesh spat.
    “That is what troubles me,” Zabalam said.
    An entire army had not troubled Zabalam earlier, why would the lack of one? “What disturbs you, Primus?”
    “Just a feeling. Forgive an old swordsman for his nerves.” Zabalam looked at the ground, not wanting to meet her gaze. “I am sure it is nothing.”
    “Where was One Ear anyway?” Urkesh muttered.
    Makeda backhanded the Venator in the mouth. The steel of her gauntlet split his lip. Urkesh crashed into the dirt, and before he could begin to sit up, she pressed the tip of her blade against his throat. Makeda twisted the hilt slightly, letting the edge of the sword of Balaash rest against the artery. She could feel his pulse through the steel. All she had to do was relax a muscle and he would die.
    Urkesh averted his eyes and did not speak. It was the not speaking that saved his life.
    “Heed my words, Urkesh,” Makeda hissed. “You killed many today. Your taberna was essential to achieve victory. You may prove useful to me again. For that reason, and that reason alone, I will spare your life. However, you will never speak ill of anyone above your caste again, or I will have the paingivers flay you. Do you understand?”
    “Yes, Second Born.”
    “You do not truly understand hoksune. You kill from a distance. You have not looked into another warrior’s eyes as they drown in their own blood. Hoksune is not real to you as it is to Akkad, who has felt a thousand deaths at his hands. Lay there in shame and think upon your transgression.” She sheathed the sword in one quick motion and walked away. “Come with me, Zabalam.”
    The old Praetorian left the young Venator in the road and followed his commander. “What would you have of me?”
    Makeda did not need deference, she needed honesty. “I have no patience for speaking around the truth. You know that. I never have.”
    Zabalam nodded. “That is why I asked to be assigned to your cohort rather than your