Knight's Shadow (The Greatcoats)
Sebastien de Castell
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face. It wasn’t that I pitied Sir Vezier for I didn’t: he’d been part of this attack and in all likelihood part of the massacre at Carefal. I was glad he’d saved the boy, but how many had he killed before he’d seen the madness inside the man he had followed this far? What broke my spirit was the thought of watching this young villager walk around, his chin high, believing himself a hero: he’d been ready to strike down a boy who was trying to protect an unarmed man—and not just any boy but one of
for any signs of movement. There were none. “Who is there? Who dares address the Duke—” Jillard started. “Shut up, you idiot,” I hissed. “Don’t give anything away. Your Grace.” “Sound advice,” the voice replied. “However, I doubt our Lord Duke pays much heed to the wisdom of others, given the situation he finds himself in today.” I started walking forward, keeping my eyes focused on both the shadows in front of us and on the intersection ahead where an enemy might be standing in wait.
freedom to choose, men cannot serve their heart, and without heart they cannot serve their Gods, their Saints, or their King.” My voice was so light that neither Heryn nor Dariana were close enough to hear me. Trin looked up and leaned toward me as if she was trying to make out what I was saying. “The First Law is that men are free,” I repeated. My voice was a little stronger, I thought. I sang it again, and again, and Trin came even closer until her ear was nearly touching my mouth and so I
died I just keep fighting and fighting and it doesn’t get any better. I’m not running, Aline. You keep running away from my death and I need you to let it go. You need to see it one more time. You need to let it flow through you. Because the fights that matter aren’t won on skill. I opened my eyes and looked at Ethalia and all at once I understood. I looked at Kest and I saw that he too knew what had to happen next. Shuran was better than me. He was the second-best swordsman in the world and no
Greatcoats—in every Duke’s castle, every Lord’s manor . . . I have spies everywhere!” “And the Dukes?” I asked. “Do they have spies here?” “Of course. Pulnam, Domaris, Orison, even your old home duchy of Pertine—they’re all here. I swear it’s our national industry.” “Fine,” I said, “so then let’s find out who did it and then we can—” “You can what?” The King turned from the window and looked at me. “Kest and I will go and kill the bastard.” The King shook his head. “No, you won’t.” “Are