Read The Lord of Lies: Strange Threads: Book 2 for Free Online Page B

from my tomb and come back to my people.’
    For a moment he almost believed it himself. So often his thoughts returned to the Dale, and the Spire, and the tomb … he could never escape them, he knew that now. There was a kind of victory, also, to the idea of taking what had been Regret’s. Mergan had engineered his downfall, so why should he not possess his things? They were his, rightfully won.
    ‘But your hair,’ said an Unwoven, ‘is not red. Legend speaks of Regret’s red hair.’
    ‘You spend three hundred years locked in a tomb,’ snarled Mergan, ‘and see if your hair doesn’t turn grey.’
    This seemedreasonable explanation enough.
    ‘We must return you to the Dale,’ said Scarbrow. ‘Your people will be eager to meet you again.’
    The smell of roasting horse entered Mergan’s nostrils, making them flare.
    ‘First,’ he said, ‘let us enjoy the spoils of your handiwork, my children.’
    He strode towards the smoking horse and the Unwoven in his way parted. Gesturing at the beast’s haunch, he summoned a length of meat to his hand. Biting in, he found the flesh not fully cooked, but the skin was burnt and crisp around the rawness. Juice and blood dribbled from his mouth into his beard.
    ‘Come,’ he said, turning around, ‘will not you join me in celebration?’
    The Unwoven did not need much encouragement, and quickly fell to ripping the horse apart, uncaring of the burns they earned in the process. Nearby, two of them began to rut on the ground between a couple of corpses. The sight of it stirred Mergan, made him remember again how long it had been since he had indulged in such pleasure. These people were so free! They ate and fucked and killed what they pleased, thinking of nothing but satisfying their base desires.
    Mergan found he admired it absolutely.
    Someone tapped him on the shoulder – a female, lithe and muscular, holding out one of the horse’s kidneys.
    ‘For you, lord,’ she said.
    Mergan took it,and munched it messily.
    ‘More Plainsfolk will be coming soon,’ warned Scarbrow. ‘Some of them escaped, and will flee to other villages. Soon they may return in force. It will take us a day to get you safely back to the Dale, lord, especially if we have to fend others from our heels. We will also be carrying their dead, to build you more white fliers.’
    The female ignored him, her eyes travelling over Mergan’s wrinkled old body.
    ‘Would my lord like to have me?’ she asked.
    Mergan licked his lips.
    ‘Ar.’
    It was like a yes, but with a mouth full of horse.

THE HOURS HER OWN
    Rostigan shiftedhis feet uncomfortably. Beneath one of the castle’s higher balconies an enormous crowd gathered in the square, while more tried to squeeze in from the streets beyond. They had spilled into the barracks grounds, and climbed atop walls, roofs, and even up the square’s ornamental trees, which did not quite look equal to the task. Soldiers, new recruits and civilians were mixed together without order, for today’s proclamations applied to all.
    ‘People of Althala,’ said Yalenna, her voice carrying clearly from their height, ‘I am the Priestess Yalenna, and it grieves me to bring the worst of news.’
    An undulating moan ran through the crowd – they already knew something of what to expect, and her dour tone seemed all the confirmation they needed.
    ‘King Braston, your beloved ruler, and my dear friend, is dead.’
    Wailing greeted her words, echoing around the square.
    If you hadactually known him
, thought Rostigan,
maybe you wouldn’t feel so bad.
    Yalenna waited for the anguish to subside, which it did not, so she continued anyway.
    ‘Let it be known that your king took grievous wounds on behalf of us all, in trying to rid the land of the evil Warden known as Despirrow.’
    At mention of that name the wails turned to anger.
    ‘Perhaps Braston would have lived despite his hurts …’ she cast a sidelong look at Loppolo, who waited beside her, and it was good the