Read Herald of the Storm for Free Online Page B

impress a real noblewoman if he kept turning up in the same attire – and had to pawn his blade for the money to pay for them.
    In hindsight a bloody stupid move.
    Three men strolled into the light that beamed down through the collapsed roof. The first two wore plain black coats, nicely stitched. They looked as if they could handle themselves in a fight. Behind them was a skinny bloke, well past middling years, in a frilly shirt and frock coat and, obviously, a wig on his big, wide head.
    Merrick was already looking for the quickest exit but there was only one way out and that was blocked. He was about to try talking, the next best thing, when Lady Elina piped up, ‘Why, Ortes. How good of you to join us.’
    Ortes, the one at the back, raised his head but didn’t bother to step in front of his men. ‘It’s my pleasure, Lady Elina.’
    Merrick had no idea what was going on, but didn’t like it one little bit. It was time to start talking … just until he could start running.
    ‘I’m afraid I am at a loss,’ he said, taking a step away from the man Ortes and his dangerous-looking companions. ‘The lady and I were just conducting—’
    ‘I know what you were conducting. And I know you’re no nobleman,’ said Ortes. ‘You’re a back street chancer. A swindler, thief and gambler … Merrick Ryder!’
    ‘Preposterous! I have no idea what this man’s talking about,’ Merrick said to Elina quickly, desperate to salvage the situation, even though it was obvious he’d been rumbled. ‘Who is this man, anyway?’
    Before she could answer, Ortes finally found the courage to step out from behind his men, raising his chin and clamping his hands on his hips as though some hero of legend.
    ‘I am Ortes Ban Hallan, Duke of Valecroft, and that,’ he pointed to Elina, ‘is my beloved aunt!’
    ‘Ah,’ said Merrick. ‘Well … I can assure you, this is not what it looks like.’
    ‘Shut it,’ said one of the black-coated henchmen, taking a threatening step forward. Merrick had never regretted pawning a sword so much in his life, but he did as he was told.
    ‘You see, my dear,’ said Elina, all smiles and sarcasm. ‘I’ve had my doubts about you for some time. That’s why I had you followed. That’s why my nephew has been checking up on you for the past few days.’
    Merrick turned to her, at his most solemn and sincere. ‘I can assure you, my lady, this is all an unfortunate misunderstand
oooff—
’
    The closest henchman punched him in the gut. It was like being hit with a hammer: all the air in his lungs escaped in a violent rush.
    ‘No more of your lies,’ spat Ortes as Merrick dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. ‘Get him out of here – make sure he never bothers Lady Elina again.’
    Before Merrick could move the eager thugs grabbed hold of him and dragged him across the crumbling floorboards.
    This couldn’t be happening. How could that old trout have rumbled him so easily? How could he have been found out by a pompous, overdressed sow? Curious though he was to know, this wasn’t quite as pressing as getting himself out of his current and worsening predicament.
    The interior of the chapel lurched past as Ortes’ henchmen dragged him along. Merrick’s head slammed against the threshold step as they pulled him into a back street. As he floundered in mud, his head pounding, one of them got in an opportunistic kick to his ribs.
    This was getting serious. If he didn’t think of something soon these morons could do some permanent damage, perhaps even to his face. And he was happy with his face just the way it was.
    As though on cue, one of his assailants pulled a knife from his black coat.
    ‘Now I’m gonna fucking slice your guts. It’ll be the last time you take advantage of kindly old ladies.’
    Merrick held up his hands instinctively as the knife came down to slash his flesh. He cried out in anticipation of the pain and blood; but they never came. Hearing a sharp thud, he opened his