Read All The King's-Men (The Yellow Hoods, #3) for Free Online Page B

with him.
    Without another remark, they continued until they were in the heart of the extravagant throne room. 
    Two towering statues of the King were central to the room, his large stone palms holding up the high ceiling. Flags decorated the walls, with the official colors of blue and gold on plaques representing each of Karupto’s five regions. 
    The corridor of soldiers came to an end on a red carpet, with two soldiers blocking the path with crossed pikes. The King sat on an enormous throne with a court of twenty people surrounding him. They were on a black marble platform two steps up, a few yards behind the pike-wielding soldiers.
    King Hamed had a thin, old face and greedy eyes. His robes were bright blue and gold. His bald head caught some shine from the morning light that poured in from the windows extending three stories up the sides of the throne room.
    Abeland quickly noted that there was no queen present. He couldn’t remember if she had died or been banished, as the kings of Karupto were famous for disposing of their wives quickly after they bore children.
    He smiled at the court like a fox greeting the chickens. “Good morning, everyone,” he said, passing a quick gaze up to see a dozen crossbowmen and riflemen on the second floor balconies behind and to the sides of the King. “I hope that the thieves in the capital are honest ones, because it seems there isn’t a guard or soldier tending to any other matter than the arrival of me and my friends.” 
    There was some muttering among the court; clearly not everyone was in alignment with the will of the King. Abeland caught one particular glance and nodded. Slowly that person slunk further into the background.
    Abeland raised his left, black-gloved hand, and touched a switch on his monocle. As the soft green glow changed to a piercing gold, Abeland adjusted to his new view of the world.
    “Get out!” yelled King Hamed, standing. He took out a battle-axe hidden beside the throne and leaned on it.
    Abeland tilted his head and smiled. How long have you been itching to say that? he wondered. “What—right now, Your Majesty?” he asked sarcastically, peering around. “We just got here.”
    “Do not pretend to be one of us, speaking our language with that fake local accent,” said King Hamed angrily.
    Abeland frowned. “You do know that if we leave, everyone will be so disappointed. It would be anticlimactic. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the drama? I mean, just imagine what your master Exchequer would say about all this expense. You could have just left a note on the gates saying, ‘Abeland, please go away.’ And by the way, my accent is genuine.” 
    “We call it the Director of the Kingdom’s Wealth,” said a voice from behind the King.
    “Thank you,” said Abeland quickly.
    The King banged his axe and gave the man a glare that promised retribution later. He straightened up as much as his aged, bent body would allow, and pulled out an ornate, jewel-encrusted pistol from under his robes. “I will shoot you myself, demon! I will put an end to your menace if you don’t leave my kingdom. You won’t carve up my lands and feed them to your lap dog, the Caixian.”
    Abeland had rewarded the kingdom of Caixa for their quick compliance by giving them pieces of the lands he conquered later. Already a progressive kingdom, they had often been pounded on by their neighbors, and for the first time wanted to be the one delivering the blows and claiming the reward.
    Smiling at the balconies, Abeland twiddled his fingers at the soldiers up there. While it seemed like a greeting, he actually did it to show he had nothing in his hands and thus to reduce the chances of anyone firing unexpectedly. As he lowered his hands, he glanced at the row of silver buckles on the inside of his elbow-length gloves. 
    King Hamed, hearing the muttering echo throughout the throne room, turned to glare at his court members behind the throne, and accidentally dropped