Read Kings of Morning for Free Online

and the tears rose higher in his eyes for the beauty of it all.
    The blow caught him entirely by surprise.
    He found himself blind, lying on the ground with grass in his mouth, the taste of blood. No true realisation of what had happened, just a vague impression of something large, a white explosion in his mind. His head was dragged up by the hair, and then released to crack down on the roots of a tree.
    ‘Greasy little bastard. Better tell the captain. And Farnak, warn the others. He’s just a slave, but you never know.’
    ‘He has the mark. A nice little arse, too.’
    ‘I’ll save some for you. Now go.’
    Kurun choked as a huge hand took him by the throat and lifted him up. He could see nothing through his tear-drowned eyes but the bright distant spangle of the distant lanterns in the trees. The music played on. He could hear children laughing.
    Another blow, which broke open his lips against his teeth.
    ‘Who are you and what is your purpose here?’
    He blinked, eyes clearing at last, rational thought fighting through the bewilderment and rising terror in his heart. ‘Nothing,’ he croaked. ‘I do nothing.’ The question had been asked in good Kefren, the language of the court, but Kurun knew enough of it to reply in kind.
    ‘A naked little hufsan , hiding in the trees. What are you, some kind of wood nymph?’ The fingers on his throat loosened. He was released, to collapse, gasping, on the grass in the dark. Above him two violet lights blinked. He could smell leather, sweat, the metallic tang of bronze. One of the Honai.
    ‘I’m from the kitchens,’ he stammered. He clasped one hand about the tree root below him as though seeking strength from the scales of the gnarled wood. ‘I meant no harm, master.’
    ‘What in Mot’s Blight is a kitchen slave doing here in the gardens? You need a better story, boy.’ A hand ran over him, almost a caress. The fingers glided over his buttocks. The Honai chuckled. ‘Not a single scar. You have the skin of a girl. Who are you here to fuck, hufsan ? You tell me true, and you may yet leave here with those pretty little balls still attached.’
    ‘I – no-one. There is no-one, may Bel hear me. I just – I just wanted to see the trees, the stars.’
    A laugh. But then the Honai tensed, and straightened. Kurun looked up to see more massive shapes looming over him, more bright eyes shining in the night. There was a slap of flesh on bronze. ‘My lord!’
    ‘Easy, Banon. What is it that’s so important you have me dragged from the King’s side?’
    ‘A spy, lord. I found him lurking in the trees. He claims to be from the kitchens. The other posts have been alerted.’
    Perfume in the night, a taut, bracing smell of sandalwood.
    ‘Stand up.’
    Kurun did so, his hands instinctively clasped over his nakedness.
    ‘If this boy is an assassin, then he’s the prettiest I’ve yet seen. What’s your name?’
    ‘Kurun, master.’
    ‘Who is your superior in the kitchens?’
    Kurun hesitated. ‘Auroc, master – but he knows nothing of this. I just –’
    ‘Shut up. Banon, go down to the kitchens. I know of this Auroc. Bring him in. I will question him later.’
    ‘The slave says he wanted to see trees and stars, my lord.’
    There was a general rustle of amusement among the Honai. The one who smelled of sandalwood leaned close. Kurun could smell the wine on his breath. ‘Trees, is it? How would you like to be nailed to one, little Kurun?’
    Kurun said nothing. The enormity of it all was chilling his flesh, turning his tongue to wood.
    ‘What shall I do with him, lord?’
    ‘Take him to the cells – and mind he gets there in one piece, Banon. It’s not your job to work on him. Prince Kouros will want to handle this. No need for the King to know.’
    A hand fell on Kurun’s shoulder, gripped the bone. ‘As you wish, sir.’
    Sandalwood leaned close again. The violet eyes stared into Kurun’s face. ‘I hope the sight of the stars was worth it, hufsan