The Cerberus Rebellion (A Griffins & Gunpowder Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Joshua Johnson
the same name, had replaced the wood keep that had been razed by Clan Lord Jared Terrell as his forces retreated from the Broken Plains.
The Broken Plains Barony had been a part of the nation of Franta for nearly six months after the last baron had died childless. With no direct heirs under the law, the family of the baron's wife had claimed the lands. As the nearest male relative to Lord Garand, Raedan's older brother Hadrian was the rightful heir.
Despite the elder Clyve's claims, Clan Lord Jared Terrell had marched his armies into the barony and no one had bothered to try to stop him. There had been no one to call the levies and the small guard that had protected Castle Garand had been ill-prepared to withstand a siege. The Frantan troops had raided villages and burned the crops in nearly half of the barony. Its economy had been neglected and trade routes closed.
Raedan had put off the fort’s construction for as long as possible, choosing to spend his limited funds on fortress more integral to the barony’s defense and on projects to revive the economy.
Brenden Willis, Lord of Smallwood, had not been happy with that decision, but his territory was small and Raedan had needed the money elsewhere. But with the local economy on the mend, Raedan had finally authorized the commencement of the work. The earthworks had been completed and Lord Willis had invited Raedan to inspect the fort at his convenience.
The sun was nearing its peak and Raedan took a moment to check his pocket watch. It was nearly noon and he had set an audience for two o’clock. A deadline they would have to ride hard to meet.
“Cutting it close, brother,” Kent observed as he reined up his charger. The younger Clyve stood half of a foot shorter than Raedan; the difference was made more noticeable by the size of their steeds.
“The winters here are worse than when we were children,” Raedan said. His hair, once merely black, shone blue in the brilliant midday sunlight. “There aren’t any trees to break the wind. Besides, it’s not as if they can start without me, and no one is likely to get too angry at my absence."
“True,” Kent conceded, shaking snow from his auburn hair.
“Though I suppose we’d best make time. I’d like to get something to eat before I have to suffer through another afternoon of marriage proposals.” Kent laughed but Raedan turned in his saddle. “I’m of a mind to find someone entirely unsuitable and marry them to you. See how you like it then.”
“No one wants to marry the lesser brother of nobles,” Kent pointed out, not without merit.
“Perhaps one of these poor lesser lords will have two daughters. I can marry the older and you the younger.” Raedan rubbed his chin with his thick black gloves. “I’m sure Damon could arrange something.”
“Oh come on now, you know I was jesting.”
“Of course I do. But there is a kernel of truth to the matter. Hadrian has been on my case about getting married, but he has seemingly forgotten that we’ll need to find you a suitable match as well.”
Kent shook his head and glared at his elder brother with bright blue eyes.
“We’ll see about that.”
He put his spurs into his horse and trotted ahead, a pair of guards behind him. Raedan spurred his own horse to keep pace.
***
Raedan held court in the great hall of Castle Garand. Most of the tapestries and paintings had been burned five years before under the orders of Clan Lord Terrell, so its high walls were sparsely decorated. Ornate marble statues, still black with soot and smoke, lined the back walls, and the slate floor was painted with mosaics. Long, thin windows slashed the walls every few feet, just large enough to easily fire a musket through. Wooden beams larger than a man crossed between stone pillars and supported black iron chandeliers.
At the north end of the hall, Raedan sat on an ornate wooden chair raised on a dais a few feet above the floor. The various rings of office
The Broken Plains Barony had been a part of the nation of Franta for nearly six months after the last baron had died childless. With no direct heirs under the law, the family of the baron's wife had claimed the lands. As the nearest male relative to Lord Garand, Raedan's older brother Hadrian was the rightful heir.
Despite the elder Clyve's claims, Clan Lord Jared Terrell had marched his armies into the barony and no one had bothered to try to stop him. There had been no one to call the levies and the small guard that had protected Castle Garand had been ill-prepared to withstand a siege. The Frantan troops had raided villages and burned the crops in nearly half of the barony. Its economy had been neglected and trade routes closed.
Raedan had put off the fort’s construction for as long as possible, choosing to spend his limited funds on fortress more integral to the barony’s defense and on projects to revive the economy.
Brenden Willis, Lord of Smallwood, had not been happy with that decision, but his territory was small and Raedan had needed the money elsewhere. But with the local economy on the mend, Raedan had finally authorized the commencement of the work. The earthworks had been completed and Lord Willis had invited Raedan to inspect the fort at his convenience.
The sun was nearing its peak and Raedan took a moment to check his pocket watch. It was nearly noon and he had set an audience for two o’clock. A deadline they would have to ride hard to meet.
“Cutting it close, brother,” Kent observed as he reined up his charger. The younger Clyve stood half of a foot shorter than Raedan; the difference was made more noticeable by the size of their steeds.
“The winters here are worse than when we were children,” Raedan said. His hair, once merely black, shone blue in the brilliant midday sunlight. “There aren’t any trees to break the wind. Besides, it’s not as if they can start without me, and no one is likely to get too angry at my absence."
“True,” Kent conceded, shaking snow from his auburn hair.
“Though I suppose we’d best make time. I’d like to get something to eat before I have to suffer through another afternoon of marriage proposals.” Kent laughed but Raedan turned in his saddle. “I’m of a mind to find someone entirely unsuitable and marry them to you. See how you like it then.”
“No one wants to marry the lesser brother of nobles,” Kent pointed out, not without merit.
“Perhaps one of these poor lesser lords will have two daughters. I can marry the older and you the younger.” Raedan rubbed his chin with his thick black gloves. “I’m sure Damon could arrange something.”
“Oh come on now, you know I was jesting.”
“Of course I do. But there is a kernel of truth to the matter. Hadrian has been on my case about getting married, but he has seemingly forgotten that we’ll need to find you a suitable match as well.”
Kent shook his head and glared at his elder brother with bright blue eyes.
“We’ll see about that.”
He put his spurs into his horse and trotted ahead, a pair of guards behind him. Raedan spurred his own horse to keep pace.
***
Raedan held court in the great hall of Castle Garand. Most of the tapestries and paintings had been burned five years before under the orders of Clan Lord Terrell, so its high walls were sparsely decorated. Ornate marble statues, still black with soot and smoke, lined the back walls, and the slate floor was painted with mosaics. Long, thin windows slashed the walls every few feet, just large enough to easily fire a musket through. Wooden beams larger than a man crossed between stone pillars and supported black iron chandeliers.
At the north end of the hall, Raedan sat on an ornate wooden chair raised on a dais a few feet above the floor. The various rings of office