Free The Storm's Own Son (Book 1) by Anthony Gillis Page B

the other side of that door or there'd be more noise. Even so, the mysterious twins, the giant bodyguards Palaeon had mentioned, would likely be down here with their master. He'd expect Cratus to have at least a few others.
    Sorya took a look at the lock. She stood up and whisper ed in Talaos's ear, "It's an odd design of lock. Not sure I can pick it quietly. Not trapped, I think."
    He nodded to her and Katara, who took up positions flanking the door. Then he motioned three of the strongest others to stand beside him.  Together, they kicked the door. The lock was no stronger than it seemed, and the doors went flying open.
    The scene beyond was not quite what he'd expected.
    The guard room, with benches and storage for weapons, was there. There were six guards, all odd. The first was a fellow Talaos recognized, a brutal killer and slovenly drunkard who'd followed Cratus for years, but now he looked clean, clear-eyed, and very unusually for the Republic, wore a full beard. He was armed with twin swords and ready to fight.
    Two , off to the right, were powerfully built men with thick black beards and bronze complexions. Talaos thought they looked like they were from the Eastlands. They carried squared shields and leaf-bladed swords. Next to them was a short, weathered-looking man with a thin curved sword, lank red-brown hair, and angular-boned features Talaos couldn't place at all.
    The last two, flanking the next doorway, could only be The Twins. They were in fact identical twin brothers, thought Talaos. They were also giants, more than seven feet tall, strong in a lean way rather than massive, and heavily protected with bronze breastplates, greaves, vambraces, shoulder and thigh armor, kilts with steel discs, and open faced helms.  They carried long steel axes. The faces under the helms were distinctive; clean featured, clean shaven, pale-skinned with icy gray-blue eyes and long silver-gold hair hanging in braids.
    "Jotunheimer..." whispered Katara.
    Beyond the twins, the next door was open. There was Cratus's torture table, but rather than holding a victim, it was scattered with scrolls, maps, papers, and books. Just around the corner beyond the door was a glimpse of a scarred, fat, mallet-like hand.
    Cratus .
    The guards to the right were advancing with weapons drawn. The twins took a single step forward with axes raised. Talaos thought these six bodyguards looked formidable, but he and his made twenty-three, and there'd be no archers on rooftops. They swept into the room. Talaos vowed he'd get to Cratus before there were any more tricks.
    Then a strange thing happened. The two giants stared at him, gazing right into his eyes, and a look of uncertainty passed between them.  They paused, and for the briefest of moments, half-lowered their axes. At that same moment, there was a mechanical noise in the other room, and a heavy steel door started dropping down the doorway.
    Talaos flipped and rolled low past the giants . They seemed to snap back into action and started swinging their axes. With a second sideways flip Talaos flew forward, inches under the fast-dropping door and into Cratus's sanctuary. Even as he passed through, he could hear the sound of fighting behind.
    He vaulted to his feet with blades drawn. Cratus stood a few feet back to the left of the door. Talaos sized him up. It had been a while. Massive as ever, Cratus was obese over a towering, powerful, bear-like frame with vastly broad shoulders, thick arms, and huge hands. His square head was still shaven, though he now had the beginnings of a gray beard, and his charcoal-gray eyes had more lines around them. Two other things were very odd, for Cratus.
    The first was that he was plainly dressed in simple gray wool. Talaos had never seen the man anything less than sumptuously attired in brocades and silks, with plentiful gold jewelry. The second was that while he had his trademark long, gold-inlayed, single-bladed executioner's axe in his right hand, his left