The Bloody North (The Fallen Crown) Read Online Free PDF Page B

said resting his heavy gaze on Rowan. "We can't keep fighting them forever."
    Rowan got up. "I can," he said and stalked off. Larch continued talking as he walked away, his deep reassuring voice convincing the others to go with him, to change sides. To turn their backs on all they'd been through and give it up, once and for all. The world had moved on, it seemed. Starkgard had seen civil war and now it was ending – their sole purpose in staying together ending with it. But he was still no closer to finding the son of a bitch who'd killed his family and crushed his chances at a normal, peaceful life. Three summers and three winters and all he had was a name . . .
    Quayle.
    Rowan stood under a great big elm and lit a pipe. His back hurt sometimes – the scar from where he'd been cut was a constant reminder of the past. He leaned against the trunk, wide as a man across, and thought on things. Rowan had not had any of the blood he set out for. And the fire down below, the furnace of hell deep inside him that had made him ride along with the Royalists in the first place, still burned.
    It was the house his kids had perished in. It was the smouldering ruin of his hopes and dreams that had kept him going while the seasons drifted by like leaves in autumn.
    But what Larch said was true. They were outnumbered. The King was dead and the bastard Prime Minister Wagstaff they'd come to call 'High Protector of Starkgard' ran the land in his stead. One monarch replaced with another. It would take an uprising on a huge scale to turn things back the way they'd been and that was just impossible. Futile as trying to stop the great axle on which the world turned.
    Larch's deep bass came from the clearing. ". . . way I see it, you can either go with the flow or drown. Well, I don't know about you boys, but I reckon I've got a few years in me yet. Right now, after all we've been through, I just want to live in peace . . ."
    Rowan sighed. He looked at the pipe in his hands, pressed it to his lips, and drew heavily. The old man talked sense. Of course he did.
    All support for the Royalists had gradually died away, as Wagstaff either won the obedience of those who'd opposed him, or swept them away in the process. The King had never been a good ruler. But to remove a monarchy altogether, to restructure the entire country according to the Prime Minister's own grand design  . . . well, Rowan didn't see that as a step up. Sounded a lot like a dictatorship to him.
    But in the face of such odds, t here was a definite argument to be made in favour of hanging up their armour and accepting the status quo.
    But that'll never do for me. I can't stop the hunt. I won't, not ever. Not till I've had my pound of flesh, soaked my hands in Quayle's filthy blood. Bathed in it. Used it to wash the misery away.
    He he ard footsteps from behind and looked to see Larch plodding toward him through the tree. "Watchya kid," he said with a lopsided grin, same way he always had. "Got any left?"
    "Here." Rowan handed him the pipe and watched him smoke. "Better?"
    Larch nodded and gave it back. "Yeah. I needed that."
    "I reckon you're right. Suggesting what you are," Rowan said. "Probably for the best. For the men."
    "But y ou don't agree with it," Larch said. "You believe we should fight till the bitter end."
    Rowan shook his head. "It's not that, Larch. You know this was never about a civil war for me. It wasn't ever about who we were fighting against, whose side we were on. It was about catching the cunt calls himself Quayle and stringing him up by his nut sack. Making him pay. For me this has always been my sole motivator. It's not changed."
    "I know."
    Rowan looked up at the pale sky. "Will the others go along with you?"
    "I think so," Larch said. "I think they see our fight's over. We're a small band of outlaws fighting a lost cause. It's not worth it any more. We're swimming upstream and growing weaker all the time. Look at our number. How many we've lost.