Free Retribution (Drakenfeld 2) by Mark Charan Newton Page A

Koton and they carry out occasional raids around towns, villages and trade routes. Reckon the old clans have a hand in that. Sometimes we get ships landing. Bands of warriors come from abroad to take what they can. Women, children, young men to be sold or used as slaves. That’s not as often as I remember. Our queen makes sure we’re protected. It’s damn good pay being in the military. She makes sure of that. And with soldiers being much better off than a tradesman, they’ll make sure she’s well looked after in return. Less likely to be open to corruption that way.’
    ‘That would explain two decades of stability.’
    He grunted something close to a laugh. ‘That’s what outsiders will think. Not everyone likes it. Couple of the clans think it’s giving the masses too much power by training them as soldiers and giving them military coin. Reckon it’s dangerous in the long run.’
    ‘And what do you think?’
    ‘Job’s a job.’
    ‘Either way, all that military coin flowing through the city can’t be bad for tradesmen like yourself,’ I commented.
    But, with a shrug, Sojun made it clear that he was done talking, so I figured it was a good idea to move on.
    Leana and I exited the stables and made our way back towards the royal palace.
    In the distance stood the snowless mountains, which I hadn’t been able to see in yesterday’s murkier weather. The terrain of the city was flat, and the buildings rarely rising more than three storeys high, so it was impressive to see how far that mountain range stretched.
    Little square flags of various different colours had been strung up between buildings, some of them containing writing that appeared religious. Two priests had set up on opposite sides of the street, and I wondered if that had any symbolism in relation to the two gods or if they were simply competing with each other on who could preach the loudest. Their words seemed to spar with each other, causing many passers-by to pause as if unsure which way to turn their attention.
    Finally we arrived outside the front of the palace. Here it was styled like a white-walled citadel, though all the decorative flourishes indicated that this place saw little in the way of combat. It was without doubt the largest building in the city, with narrow glass windows spaced at regular intervals and reaching five storeys in height – though it looked as if there were more layers to be found further in. Looking up, there were four turrets on this face, spaced about thirty paces apart; passing back and forth in between them was the glistening helmet of a soldier. All in all, given the number of royal palaces I’d seen – from King Licintius’ residence in Tryum to the ziggurat of Prince Bassim in Venyn City, not to mention the palace of the Queen of Dalta – I was not much impressed. Here was a fairly basic structure that had been built long before the country had a taste for fine designs.
    I spotted a large, arched black gate manned by four soldiers armed with bows, and that was where we headed. I informed the archers, who on closer inspection wore ornate green and white uniforms with brightly polished helmets, exactly what was in the sack.
    After their own private, urgent conversation, we were led through the gate and into the royal compound, whereupon I lifted down the body and we were told to wait. Here, the entrance appeared to be an even less grand affair, with exposed red brickwork showing and a garden full of herbs.
    ‘The staff entrance,’ Leana muttered.
    We watched a man come out of a small door to empty dirty water down the drains.
    Eventually two soldiers returned and declared, ‘Sulma Tan will see you now.’
    Two other men in the red and blue of the City Watch helped us carry the body inside.
    Knives and brutal barbed implements hung on racks along the wall, and I wondered where we had been brought. This brick chamber, Sulma Tan informed us after noting my suspicious looks, was used for training students of