by Kearney Paul
Orsana placed a black diadem on Corvus’s head, and the high priest of Bel anointed him with water from the Huruma, and gave him of it to drink. Another priest then placed in his hand a compound bow of ancient make, its string long withered, the grain of the wood replaced by minutely engraved ebony. In his other had was set a horse’s rein.
The horse, the bow, the truth. The trinity of the Asurian Kings.
Corvus stood wrapped in the purple and gold robes of royalty and acknowledged the cheers of the Macht thousands with a grave nod. His marshals stood all about him, mingled with high officers of the Honai and representatives from all over the empire. He took his place on the ancient throne with the cheers still echoing from the high walls of the audience-chamber.
In that moment, he looked wholly like some high-born Kefre of the ancient nobility, and it seemed that there was nothing of the Macht left about him at all.
Roshana was led to him moments later, on the arm of Rictus. As she passed Orsana the two women glanced at one another with a brief, intense gleam of enmity.
She squeezed Rictus’s arm as he brought her to the Great King, and in perfect Machtic, she said ‘Thank you’ to him. He nodded, and moved away. Kurun joined him, setting the thornwood stick in his hand to lean upon. The boy had eyes only for Roshana, but she never looked at him once.
The high priest thumbed scented oil across their foreheads, and then Corvus undid Roshana’s komis, letting the white silk fall from her mouth. He kissed her, and a murmur of approval rippled down the hall.
The Empire had a Great King once more, and a Queen of Asurian blood as his consort.
THE BANQUETING HALL seated five hundred, and it was overflowing, bright with lamplight, hot and close with the heat of the crowds and the flames. From the kitchens below, endless courses were transported up on the serving platforms, and the purple-striped slaves of the lower city were everywhere, two for every guest. Macht and Kufr ate and drank side by side, talking in their own languages and making an effort at each other’s. The palace had not seen such an animated throng since the days of Anurman.
Rictus stood by the wall, watching, wiping the sweat from his face. Corvus and his new bride were talking away to each other, oblivious to the rest of the room. The Great King was holding his Queen’s hand. He looked flushed and eager as a boy.
Three seats down, Orsana sat like a graven statue, only her eyes moving. Her wine was untouched, and as Rictus watched, one of the slaves bent and whispered in her ear.
Oh, Fornyx, Rictus thought, you would so have enjoyed this.
He thought their departure from the hall went unnoticed, but Ardashir and Druze ambushed him as he and Kurun were making their way down the passageway beyond.
‘Would you leave without a farewell, brother?’ Ardashir asked, and there were vine-leaves in his hair and a sadness in his smile.
‘There is no need for soldiers to say goodbye,’ Rictus told him. ‘In the end, we will all meet again in the same place.’
‘Hell,’ Druze said with his dark grin. The Igranian had a wine-jar by the neck and a wedding-garland was hanging from one ear.
‘He wants you to stay – he’s as much as begged you to,’ Ardashir said gravely.
‘I am of no further use to man nor beast, Ardashir. I will not stay here to sit and drool in front of a fire, to be wheeled out on great occasions. And besides, the climate does not suit me.’
The three laughed together while Kurun looked on, eyes wide and solemn.
‘Is this a protégé?’ Druze asked Rictus. ‘Or is he just along to keep you warm at night?’
‘He’s free to come and go as he chooses,’ Rictus said. ‘For the moment, his road leads with me.’
‘And what is that road, Rictus?’ Ardashir asked. ‘Where are you going to?’
Rictus tilted his head to one side and closed one eye.
‘I have a yearning to see my own mountains again, brothers. It seems to me that a man near the end of his life often feels most comfortable where he started it. I have family in the Harukush. I shall be less worried about drooling before them; that is what grandfathers do.’
The humour faded from Ardashir and Druze’s faces. They knew Rictus’s family history.
‘Corvus would give you a kingdom to rule, if you but asked him,’ Druze said. ‘Of us all, you deserve it most.’
‘I am not made of the stuff of kings, brother. Once upon a time, a long while ago, I led the Ten Thousand. To have done that is enough, for any man’s life.’
‘Parmenios is writing a history,’ Ardashir said. ‘He begins with the sack of Isca. He says that the seeds of a new world were sown that day.’
Rictus thought back on it. He had been eighteen years old, a boy waiting to die by the shores of a grey sea.
‘Good luck to him,’ he said with a smile. ‘I hope he remembers it better than I do. Come, Kurun; let’s be on our way before more of these bastards chance across us.’
Druze held up the jar. ‘A last drink, Rictus. To see you out the door. Come, brother.’
They drank from the jar one after another, even Kurun. When they were done only a trickle remained. Rictus poured it out onto the floor.
‘For absent friends,’ he said. And he tossed the empty jar back to Druze with a smile.
Then he turned and limped away down the passageway, leaning now on the stick, now on the slender frame of the boy beside him. Ardashir and Druze watched him go, the stick clicking on the marble floor, his shadow passing along the walls until he was round the corner and out of sight.
GLOSSARY
Aichme: A spearhead, generally of iron but sometimes of bronze. The spearhead is usually some nine inches in length, of which four inches is the blade.
Anande: The Kefren name for the moon known as Haukos; in their tongue it means patience.
Antimone: The veiled goddess, protector and guardian of the Macht. Exiled from heaven for creating the black Macht armour, she is the goddess of pity, of mercy, and of sadness. Her veil separates life from death.
Antimone’s Gift/the Curse of God: Black, indestructible armour given to the Macht in the legendary past by the goddess Antimone, created by the smith-god himself out of woven darkness. There are some five to six thousand sets of this armour extant upon the world of Kuf, and the Macht will fight to the death to prevent it falling into the hands of the Kufr.
Apsos: God of beasts. A shadowy figure in the Macht pantheon, reputed to be a goat-like creature who will avenge the ill-treatment of animals and sometimes transform men into beasts in revenge or as a jest.
Araian: The Sun, wife of Gaenion the smith.
Archon: A Kufr term for a military officer of high rank, a general of a wing or corps.
Bel: The all-powerful and creative god who looks over the Kufr world. Roughly equivalent to the Macht ‘God,’ but gentler and less vindictive.
Carnifex: An army physician.
Centon: Traditionally the number of men who could be fed from a single centos, the black cauldron mercenaries eat from. Approximately one hundred men.
Chamlys: A short cloak, commonly reaching to mid-thigh.
Chiton: A short-sleeved tunic open at the throat, reaching to the knee. The female version is longer.
Drepana: A heavy, curved slashing sword associated with the lowland peoples of the Macht.
Firghe: The Kefren name for the moon Phobos, meaning anger.
Gaenion: The smith-god of the Macht, who created the Curse of God for Antimone, who wrought the stars and much of the fabric of Kuf itself. He is married to Araian, the sun, and his forges are reputed to be upon the summit of Mount Panjaeos in the Harukush.
Goatherder tribes: Less sophisticated Macht who do not dwell in cities, but are nomadic hill-people. They possess no written language, but have a large hoard of oral culture.
Goatmen: Degenerate savages who belong to no city, and live in a state of brutish filth. They wear goatskins by and large, and keep to the higher mountain-country of the Macht lands.
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Hell: The far side of the Veil. Not hell in the Christian sense, but an afterlife whose nature is wholly unknowable.
Himation: A long, fine cloak, sometimes worn ceremonially.
Honai: Traditionally, a Kefren word meaning finest. It is a term used to describe the best troops in a king’s entourage, not only his bodyguards, but the well-drilled professional soldiers of the Great King’s household guard.
Hufsan/Hufsa: Male and female terms for the lower-caste inhabitants of the Empire, traditionally mountain-folk of the Magron, the Adranos and the Korash. They are smaller and darker than the Kefren, but hardier, more primitive, and less cultured, preferring to preserve their records through storytelling rather than script.
Isca: A Macht city, destroyed by a combination of her neighbours in the year before the Battle of Kunaksa. The men of Isca were semi-professional warriors who trained incessantly for war and had a habit of attacking their neighbours. Legend has it the founder of Isca, Isarion, was a protégé of the god Phobos.
Kefren: The peoples of the Asurian heartland, who led the resistance to the Macht in the semi-legendary past, and then established an Empire on the back of that achievement. Throughout the Empire, they are a favoured race, and have become a caste of rulers and administrators.
Kerusia: In Machtic, the word denotes a council, and is used to designate the leaders of a community. In mercenary circles it can also refer to a gathering of generals, sometimes but not always elected by common consent.
Komis: The linen head-dress worn by the nobility of the Asurian Empire. It can be pulled up around the head so that only the eyes are visible, or can be loosed to reveal the entire face.
Kuf: The world, the earth, the place of life set amid the stars under the gaze of God and his minions.
Kufr: A derogatory Macht term for all the inhabitants of Kuf who are not of their own race.
Mora: A formation of ten centons, or approximately one thousand men.
Mot: The Kufr god of barren soil, and thus of death.
Niseian: A breed of horse from the plains of Niseia, reputedly the best warhorses in the world, and certainly the greatest in stature. Mostly black or bay, and over sixteen hands in height, they are the mounts of kings and Kefren nobility, and are rarely seen outside the Asurian heartland.
Obol: A coin, made of bronze, silver, or gold.
Ostrakr: The tem used for those unfortunates who have no city as their own, either because they have been exiled, their city has been destroyed, or they have taken up with mercenaries.
Othismos: The name given to the heart of hand-to-hand battle, when two bodies of heavy infantry meet.
Paean: A hymn, usually sung upon the occasion of a death. The Macht sing their Paean going into battle, to prepare themselves for their own demise.
Panoply: The name given for a full set of heavy infantry accoutrements; including a helm, a cuirass, a shield and a spear.
Pasang: One thousand single paces. Historically, one mile is a thousand double-paces of a Roman Legionary; thus, a pasang is half a mile.
Peplos: A woman’s garment, very like a cloak but generally finer and lighter.
Phobos and Haukos: The two moons of Kuf. Phobos is the larger, and is pale in colour. Haukos is smaller and pink or pale red in colour. Also, the two sons of the goddess Antimone. Phobos is the god of fear, and Haukos the god of hope.
Qaf: A mysterious race native to the mountains of the Korash. They are very tall and broad and seem to be a strange kind of amalgam of Kufr and ape. They are reputed to have their own language, but appear as immensely powerful beasts that haunt the snows of the high passes.
Rimarch: An archaic term for a file-closer, the last man in the eight-man file of a phalanx, and second-in-command of the file itself.
Sauroter: The lizard-sticker. The counterweight to the aichme, at the butt of the spear, generally a four-sided spike somewhat heavier than the spearhead so the spear can be grasped past the middle and still retain its balance. It is used to stick the spear upright in the ground, and also to finish off prone enemies. If the aichme is broken off in combat, the sauroter is often used as a substitute.
Sigils: The letters of the Macht alphabet. Usually, each city adopts one as its badge and has it painted upon the shields of its warriors.
Silverfin, Horrin: Silverfin roughly correspond to a kind of ocean bass, and horrin to mackerel.
Strawhead: A derogatory term used among the Macht for those who hail from the high mountain settlements. These folk tend to be taller and fairer in colouring than the Macht from the lowlands, hence the name.
Taenon: The amount of land required for one man to live and raise a family. It varies according to the country and the soil quality, a taenon in the hills being larger than in the lowlands, but in general it equates to about five acres.
Vorine: A canine predator, mid-way between a wolf and a jackal in size.
On the world of Kuf, the Macht are a mystery, a seldom-seen people of extraordinary ferocity and discipline whose prowess on the battlefield is the stuff of legend. For centuries they have remained within the remote fastnesses of the Harukush Mountains. In the world beyond, the teeming races and peoples of Kuf have been united within the bounds of the Asurian Empire, which rules the known world, and is invincible. The Great King of Asuria can call up whole nations to the battlefield. His word is law.
But now the Great King's brother means to take the throne by force, and in order to do so he has sought out the legend. He hires ten thousand mercenary warriors of the Macht, and leads them into the heart of the Empire.
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It is twenty-three years since a Macht army fought its way home from the heart of the Asurian Empire. The man who came to lead that army, Rictus, is now a hard-bitten mercenary captain, middle-aged and tired. He wants nothing more than to lay down his spear and become the farmer that his father was. But fate has different ideas.
A young war-leader has risen to challenge the order of things in the very heartlands of the Macht. A soldier of genius, he takes city after city, and reigns over them asking. What is more, he has heard of the legendary leader of the Ten Thousand. His name is Corvus, and the rumours say that he is not even fully human. He means to make himself absolute ruler of all the Macht. And he wants Rictus to help him.
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This omnibus eBook contains the first two novels in the Monarchies of God series - Hawkwood's Voyage and The Heretic Kings.
THE WESTERN WORLD IS BURNING...
For Richard Hawkwood and his crew, a desperate venture to carry refugees to the uncharted land across the Great Western Ocean offers the only chance of escape from the Inceptines' pyres.
In the East, Lofantyr, Abeleyn and Mark - three of the five Ramusian Kings - have defied the cruel pontiff's purge and must fight to hold their thrones through excommunication, intrigue and civil war.
In the quiet monastery city of Charibon, two humble monks make a discovery that will change the whole world.
Aekir, the Holy City, has fallen and all now seems lost, but even on the eve of destruction the Faithful still war amongst themselves...
Hawkwood and the Kings collects Hawkwood's Voyage and The Heretic Kings, the first two books in Paul Kearney's spectacular The Monarchies of God cycle.
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THE TIME OF THE WOLF IS AT HAND...
Struck down in his moment of victory, Hebrion's young King Abeleyn lies in a coma, his city in ruins and his fiancee and former lover vying for the throne. Corfe Cear-Inaf, now a colonel, is given a ragtag command of ill-equipped savages and sent on a hopeless mission by a jealous King who expects him to fail.
Richard Hawkwood and Lord Murad return bearing news of horror on a savage new continent, with something terrible lurking in the hold.
The Church is tearing itself apart, even as the champions of truth fight to bring peace between Ramusian and Merduk; but in the far West, a terrible new threat is rearing its head...
&n
bsp; The Century of the Soldier collects the final three books in Paul Kearney's explosive The Monarchies of God series, revised and expanded for this edition: The Iron Wars, The Second Empire and Ships From The West.
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Titles
Dedication and Indicia
Praise for the Macht Series
Map of Kuf
Prologue
Part One: Heart of Empire
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four