Read The God Tattoo: Untold Tales from the Twilight Reign for Free Online

define madness?’ his voice hardened suddenly. ‘The man believed he was possessed by demons, that they drove his actions. His research into demonology was extensive, if
pursued with a less-than-scholarly instinct. Perhaps he was correct, perhaps not. Best that point be down-played.’
    ‘And the runes?’
    King Emin hesitated, looking thoughtful for a moment before continuing.
    ‘Unimportant. The reference was an obscure one to a false demon cult that once had great power, but is now extinct. It crops up in several of the more deranged works, but has failed the
test of time and research. Again, that is something you will not speak of again.’
    ‘And what if I won’t keep quiet?’
    ‘Then I will have sorely misjudged you. This clerk will be remembered as a spy, from Tor Salan or the Circle City perhaps, it doesn’t matter. His memory will be reviled as you
wished, just not quite for the reasons you’ve witnessed. What does matter is that truth is a weapon. Your job is not just to uphold the law, but also to protect this irrational and dangerous
population from itself. My people’s own imagination can cause them more hurt than they, or even you, could appreciate. You saw that when the vigilantes started to beat people to death. Folk
need few enough reasons to panic and whenever that happens, someone gets hurt.’
    He reached out a hand. ‘So, are you with me?’
    I stared numbly at the offer, knowing I was defeated. And for my sins I took it and all it implied; realising it was the truth I sought, as perverse a reason as that may seem. I had spent my
life hunting transgressors, driven to put a name and reason to every crime. To illuminate the darkness for those who needed protection in my own small way.
    Now I saw the truth from a king’s sight – how he protects his realm, how he needs his own truth in the void he inhabits. Cloudy and shifting, there was a light to be found there, but
sometimes uncovering it would only ever be a disservice to the people I served.
    That has been my life ever since. Now, as I feel Death’s hounds draw ever closer, I am prepared to kneel at my Last Judgement and hear His words – content in my choice for the sake
of others.
    It took a killer called Nimer to show me who I was. Many years later I thanked him for it. He merely smiled in that way of his.

 
     
     
     
THE GOD TATTOO
     
     
     
     
    Daken’s stomach growled, long and angry.
    ‘Piss on this nation o’ cowards,’ he muttered, ‘so fast to surrender there’s no pay for an honest man.’
    ‘Tole you we should’ve joined the other side,’ added his nasal-voiced companion.
    Daken glared at the man trailing him and gave the reins of the horse he was leading an irritated twitch.
    ‘An’ I told you, Yanal, to shut the fuck up about that.’
    The smaller mercenary shrank from the look and pulled his coat tighter around his body. He shivered and greasy trails of unkempt hair fell over his face like a veil. Underneath that was a streak
of mud across Yanal’s face, pasting his hair down onto his forehead. He’d tripped a few hours back, trying to keep up with the pace Daken had set, and ended up lying flat on the muddy
road.
    That had been Daken’s only laugh of the day, and the past few as well. Yanal was getting worried; he could see a familiar set to the big man’s jaw and knew it boded badly for the
next person to piss him off. They’d not been comrades for long, only a few months, but any fool could tell a penniless and hungry white-eye was a dangerous beast.
    Not as tall as many of his kind, Daken had a build to rival a Chetse warrior and the similarity didn’t end there. The white-eye’s arms, as thick as Yanal’s legs, were covered
in tattoos – hardly the stylised scars of the Agoste field, where Chetse veterans put recruits through gruelling tests, but displaying a variety of styles. Yanal guessed many were charms and
wards Daken had collected over decades of soldiering – making