The Broken Blade Read Online Free PDF

gaze again. The eyes that watched him were not hostile, but neither did they speak of that love and support which he had known from every man in the East.
    â€œThe quarter’s reports?” he asked.
    â€œHere.” Dehelt drew them from a pouch beneath his cloak. “You will find everything in order. Were the Serpent to come tomorrow, Lord Goodman, the North would offer him fitting greeting.”
    â€œIt pleases me to hear it.” He held the man’s gaze for a moment. “Thank you, Lord Dehelt.”
    â€œHis glory,” Dehelt replied, and bowed.
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    From the North they went into the East Quarter. It had been only a couple of hours since he had last been there, and yet years uncounted could have passed.
    â€œI did not have the opportunity to say so this morning, but it is a lovely quarter, my lord,” Fletcher commented as they passed into the Ashen. “You must have been proud of it.”
    â€œI am,” Eamon answered.
    Despite the messages that he had sent with Fletcher earlier that day, it was not Arlaith who met them. As they prepared to alight at the Ashen, a familiar figure came to meet them.
    â€œLord Goodman,” it called.
    Eamon smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr Lancer,” he said, remembering in time not to call the man by his nickname of “Lieutenant Lackey”.
    â€œI’ve been asked to deliver these to you, my lord,” Lancer told him, holding out a collection of reports, “though I daresay you know their contents well enough.”
    â€œThank you,” Eamon replied. It was true; he had written the papers himself, with Anderas’s assistance. He had Fletcher stow them with the others. “Where is Lord Arlaith?”
    â€œIn a meeting with the captain,” Lancer answered readily. “He charged me with giving these to you.” Eamon could not help but glance up at the Handquarter with a flicker of fear in his heart. What kind of meeting did Anderas endure?
    He could not allow himself to linger on it; he had to trust Anderas. Had he not done so before, even with body, life, and faith?
    â€œThank you, Mr Lancer. Please give my regards to Captain Anderas.”
    â€œAnd to Lord Arlaith?”
    After only the slightest hesitation, Eamon nodded. “Even so.”
    The lieutenant bowed and, with Eamon’s permission, returned to the college. Eamon breathed deeply and turned to Fletcher.
    â€œTake these reports back to the palace.”
    â€œAnd those for the West Quarter, my lord?”
    â€œI will bring them myself,” Eamon told him. “I would like you to tally these together while I do so.”
    â€œOf course, my lord,” Fletcher answered. After bowing he turned and spurred his horse back towards Coronet Rise.
    Eamon sat for a while in the saddle, watching the East Quarter’s college and Handquarters.
    Sahu shifted beneath him and tossed his head to dislodge a fly resting on his nose. The movement called Eamon back to the present. Patting the horse’s neck fondly he turned and prepared to go into the West.
    He passed once more through the Four Quarters and there, at the heart of the city, he stopped. Dunthruik pulsed all about him, its strength drawn up the Coll towards the walls of the palace. The movement was in every stone, in every gesture, and every gaze.
    How could Hughan hope to stand against it?
    As he paused there he heard the sound of many approaching feet. A large contingent rolled down Coronet Rise, flanked by men from the North Quarter. To judge, both from their bearing and the wagons and mules that bore them, the group was being evicted from the city to make room for Gauntlet reinforcements, the last of which arrived from the north. As they approached, the officer at the column’s head noted Eamon and paled.
    The officer brought the entire column to an uneasy halt, bowed, and stood still. Calls and cries from further back in the grinding mass demanded to know why it had