Prince of Wrath Read Free

where the equines were grouped, just inside the wall. Someone had found some hay and the beasts were happily chewing on it, adding their droppings to the general mess.
    As he waited for the man to return, he frowned. Something was missing and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something he remembered from before when he was last here. No matter, it would come to him in time.
    The man returned, a leather case in his hands. This was the ‘box’ that all Kastanian generals carried with them. It allowed them to issue messages whenever the need arose, whether it be commands to subordinates or a message to send to cities, towns or the enemy. Astiras also used it to send news of the campaign back to Kastan City and his wife, Isbel. She was busy running the administrative and bureaucratic machine of Kastania while he was winning the war.
    The guard now pulled out a blackstick, the writing utensil used in the field, as opposed to the ink and feather for office use. Ink got easily spilt and feathers were too large and messy. Blacksticks were shorter, neater and easily stored. He paused, holding the stick above the top sheet of parchment.
    Astiras grunted and stood facing the town, the wall behind him. “To the citizens of Kastania,” Astiras began dictating. “Victory is ours! The Bragalese are crushed. Zofela is once again in imperial hands. A victory parade will be held in every city to celebrate the ending of the war. By command of your emperor, and so on.” Astiras watched as the man frantically scribed, his tongue poking out of his teeth in concentration. “Make six copies. I shall personally sign each one, and then arrange for them to be taken by messenger to Kastan City, Turslenka, Kornith, Niake, Slenna and Zipria.”
    The guard bowed and finished by writing down the emperor’s name. He folded the sheet, placed it in his pocket and waited for the next message. Astiras was well known for his copious messages.
    “To the soldiers of the Army of the East. You are free to occupy a house of your choice. If you wish to move permanently here then you are free to do so. There will be no charge for taking the house. The town hall will record your ownership. If however you wish to return to Kastan City then the property will be purchased from you by your emperor at cost price. All possessions within the house are yours whatever your decision. Signed, and so forth. Make ten copies and post them up on the main street corners.”
    The guard bowed. Astiras dismissed him. The man would make the required copies. “Let us take up residence in the governor’s quarters,” Astiras said. He would be busy over the next few days. The people who took up ownership of the houses would form the core of the new township. Those who left would be compensated. Astiras would have to find the funds. Perhaps Elmar had a treasury. He’d have to find it.
    As he made his way back to the castle, he suddenly remembered what was wrong with Zofela. There were no fowl, canines or felines moving around. All animals were gone.
    The garrison had eaten the lot.

CHAPTER TWO
    The Kastanian Empire hugged the edges of the Aester Sea. Like an immense curved bow it ran from the port of Parsot in the east along the eastern boundary of the sea, down to the fertile plains of Makenia and west to the heart of the Empire, Frasia, and the capital city, Kastan. Then it crossed the narrow channel that separated east from west and encompassed Bathenia and its biggest settlement, the city of Niake, before running north-west along the western boundary of the sea to the province of Lodria and its main town, Slenna.
    Slenna, like Zofela, was a wooden-walled fortress town. Again, like Zofela, it had been the centre of a rebellion against the Kastanian Empire. This rebellion had been led, not by an entire people, but by a rival family to the one that had at that time been ruling. When Astiras Koros seized power four years previously, the rebel faction in Slenna had refused to