The Colour of Vengeance Read Online Free PDF

and way out of Sarth but more importantly than all of those the Black Thorn needed an axe.
    The docks of Sarth were much the way Thorn remembered them when he had arrived; busy. More ships than he could count and for each ship there were more people than he could count. The noise was choking, the smell was debilitating and the sight was deafening but Betrim found he had one advantage amidst the chaos of the docks. He still hadn't gotten rid of the coat. The crowd parted as folk looked his way then flowed around him, desperate not to come to the attention of an Arbiter. Betrim might have enjoyed it but he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was about to stab him in the back with something long and pointy. Of course he knew full well the only reason he had that feeling was because that was how he had once killed an Arbiter; the fifth one.
    He could feel his legs shaking, straining to hold up his weight, despite the loss, due to being locked up in a cell for... Weeks? Months? Betrim still had no idea how long they'd held him there but right now he knew he needed to sit down somewhere, or at least lean against something for a while. A nice long lean would do him the world of good, he reckoned.
    Finding a good-looking spot, a small wooden shack where the dock masters could retreat to after inspecting incoming ships and taxing those who couldn't afford to pay it, Betrim relaxed against the outside wall facing the water and settled in with a comfortable sigh. One of the dock masters, a small man with beady little eyes set in a piggy face stared at the Black Thorn for a moment with something that looked to be one part curiosity to three parts terror, before scampering away. Betrim paid him little mind, paid all of them little mind if truth be told, he was far more interested in leaning and scanning the ships arrayed at the docks.
    Problem was, he reckoned, was that he was flat broke and ships rarely took on passengers that couldn't pay their way. Problem was also that he wasn't able to work his way across the ocean and back to the wilds as the Black Thorn had a long-term relationship with seasickness, they were in fact very well acquainted. As far as Betrim could see it that left him with two choices; he could either stowaway or try to exploit the Arbiter coat to its fullest.
    Stowaways, Betrim was well aware, had a habit of being thrown overboard when discovered and the Black Thorn was known for a great many things but swimming was not one of them. Continuing his show at posing as an Arbiter seemed less likely to end in his death but, if the captain of the ship decided to check with the Inquisition, it could end up with his re-capture and Betrim was fairly sure he'd rather learn to swim.
    There was, of course, a third option, something the Black Thorn was very well known for; crime. He could stay in Sarth a while, rob folk, cheat folk, kill folk if need be. There must be some people in Sarth who deserved a good stabbing and, more importantly, those that would pay to have others receive good stabbing. It was all a matter of finding a fixer, someone who knew about the jobs and would match them with someone like Betrim for a small price.
    He was just thinking of leaving the docks when Betrim spotted something, a name he knew well; the Bloody Bride . Truth was the Black Thorn was one of only a few people left who knew why the ship was named such. Truth was if the captain of the Bloody Bride was still Arip Winters, then Betrim might just have found his way back to the wilds.
Jacob Lee
    There was no music but Jacob hummed anyway. He hated silence; couldn't abide it. When the world went silent how could you know if it still existed or not? If all noise stopped, for all Jacob knew, the world could have ended and only he and his cell would be left. A daunting and terrifying prospect.
    The world wasn't silent today though. Apart from his humming he could hear the people outside. There was only a small window, at the top of his cell and