Record of the Blood Battle Read Online Free PDF Page B

Donnelly drove the point of his business at him like a spear. “I’d like you to remand the Noble you’ve taken into custody. By order of the Capital.”
    Running his eyes across the papers the man tossed down on the desk confirmed to the mayor that they were, indeed, documents issued by the government in the Capital. They even bore the signature of the present head of the administration. They said that no matter what had been unearthed at the village, it was to be brought back to the Capital.
    The mayor protested such unilateral action. “I don’t care if it is the government in the Capital—I just can’t accept that we’re expected to let them take what we excavated for free. You’ll have to give me a valid justification for this.”
    “Are you familiar with Noble Law Article 9, ‘Regarding the Excavation of Noble Ruins and Remains,’ paragraph 7?” Donnelly asked, a cruel smile rising to his lips. Of course someone like you wouldn’t be , it said. And he was right.
    As the mayor wallowed in humiliation, a low voice poured into his ears. “And I quote: Fundamentally, Noble ruins and the items excavated from them belong to the individual or community that owns the land. However, in cases where the government in the Capital deems a property of special interest, said individual or community must immediately comply with their requests. I believe that should suffice.”
    “No, that’s a question of legal interpretation, and our circumstances—” the mayor countered, not ready to concede.
    Donnelly interrupted, asking, “What did you intend to do with this Noble, then?”
    “Er, actually—”
    “In a Frontier village, there’s only one thing to do when a living Noble is discovered. What else can be done besides driving a stake through his heart and lopping off his head?”
    The mayor and the sheriff both froze. He was right. That pudgy little Nobleman had come along quietly. He’d even gone into a cell. And though they hadn’t given it much thought, they had to wonder now if that hadn’t been because D had been present. But they’d gotten rid of D. Yet the Noble remained passive. Once he was sure D was no longer around, was the Noble planning to break out and exact a vengeance beyond human ken?
    As the villagers turned toward the holding area door in spite of themselves, Donnelly asserted coolly, “On the whole, the northern Frontier regions have a relatively weak fear of the Nobility. In light of that, I imagine your aim was this: You’d make this Noble who can walk in the light of day a famous attraction to draw in tourists. That’d certainly be profitable. After all, all you have to do is give him blood, and even if you didn’t, Nobles are still ageless and undying. He’d still be alive long after this village ceased to exist. However, the upper echelons in the Capital have something broader and deeper in mind than a village out in the sticks. This is a living Noble—and one that can walk in the light of day. Think about what such a creature could mean for the whole human race. Okay, enough talk. We’ll be taking that Noble now.”
    Just as Donnelly took a step forward, a shot rang out to his rear. One of the officials slammed back against the wall behind him, clutching his right shoulder. A single-shot pistol had fallen at the man’s feet.
    As the sheriff instinctively went for his weapon, a gun barrel as big around as a pepper mill was jammed in his face. An inch and a quarter in diameter, the barrel was packed with spongy tubes. The sheriff slowly brought his hand away from his gun.
    “You know what this is?” Donnelly asked him.
    Nodding, the sheriff said that he did. Beads of sweat had formed on his cheeks. “It’s a microneedle gun, isn’t it?”
    “That’s right.”
    The instant Donnelly replied, a slot in the holding area door opened and the barrel of an old-fashioned rifle appeared. A roar shook the room.
    While one member of the patrol was blown backward, a stark gleam on the