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The Shadow of the Gods (The Bloodsworn Saga, #1)(194)

Author:John Gwynne

if you enjoyed

THE SHADOW OF THE GODS

look out for

LEGACY OF ASH

Book One of The Legacy Trilogy

by

Matthew Ward

An epic tale of intrigue and revolution, soldiers and assassins, ancient magic and the eternal clash of empires, Legacy of Ash is the first in an unmissable debut fantasy trilogy from a major new talent.

A shadow has fallen over the Tressian Republic.

But as Tressia falls, heroes rise.

Viktor Akadra is the Republic’s champion. A warrior without equal, he hides a secret that would see him burned as a heretic.

Josiri Trelan is Viktor’s sworn enemy. A political prisoner, he dreams of reigniting his mother’s failed rebellion.

Calenne Trelan, Josiri’s sister, seeks only to break free of their tarnished legacy, to escape the expectations and prejudice that haunt the family name.

As war spreads across the Republic, these three must set aside their differences in order to save their home. Yet decades of bad blood are not easily set aside. And victory—if it comes at all—will demand a darker price than any of them could have imagined.

Fifteen Years Ago

Lumendas, 1st Day of Radiance

A Phoenix shall blaze from the darkness.

A beacon to the shackled; a pyre to the keepers of their chains.

from the sermons of Konor Belenzo

Wind howled along the marcher road. Icy rain swirled behind.

Katya hung low over her horse’s neck. Galloping strides jolted weary bones and set the fire in her side blazing anew. Sodden reins sawed at her palms. She blotted out the pain. Closed her ears to the harsh raven-song and ominous thunder. There was only the road, the dark silhouette of Eskavord’s rampart, and the anger. Anger at the Council, for forcing her hand. At herself for thinking there’d ever been a chance.

Lightning split grey skies. Katya glanced behind. Josiri was a dark shape, his steed straining to keep pace with hers. That eased the burden. She’d lost so much when the phoenix banner had fallen. But she’d not lose her son.

Nor her daughter.

Eskavord’s gate guard scattered without challenge. Had they recognised her, or simply fled the naked steel in her hand? Katya didn’t care. The way was open.

In the shadow of jettied houses, sodden men and women loaded sparse possessions onto cart and dray. Children wailed in confusion. Dogs fought for scraps in the gutter. Of course word had reached Eskavord. Grim tidings ever outpaced the good.

You did this.

Katya stifled her conscience and spurred on through the tangled streets of Highgate.

Her horse forced a path through the crowds. The threat of her sword held the desperate at bay. Yesterday, she’d have felt safe within Eskavord’s walls. Today she was a commodity to be traded for survival, if any had the wit to realise the prize within their grasp.

Thankfully, such wits were absent in Eskavord. That, or else no one recognised Katya as the dowager duchess Trelan. The Phoenix of prophecy.

No, not that. Katya was free of that delusion. It had cost too many lives, but she was free of it. She was not the Phoenix whose fires would cleanse the Southshires. She’d believed – Lumestra, how she’d believed – but belief alone did not change the world. Only deeds did that, and hers had fallen short.

The cottage came into view. Firestone lanterns shone upon its gable. Elda had kept the faith. Even at the end of the world, friends remained true.

Katya slid from the saddle and landed heavily on cobbles. Chainmail’s broken links gouged her bloodied flesh.

“Mother?”

Josiri brought his steed to a halt in a spray of water. His hood was back, his blond hair plastered to his scalp.

She shook her head, hand warding away scrutiny. “It’s nothing. Stay here. I’ll not be long.”

He nodded. Concern remained, but he knew better than to question. He’d grown into a dependable young man. Obedient. Loyal. Katya wished his father could have seen him thus. The two were so much alike. Josiri would make a fine duke, if he lived to see his seventeenth year.

She sheathed her sword and marched for the front door. Timbers shuddered under her gauntleted fist. “Elda? Elda! It’s me.”

A key turned. The door opened. Elda Savka stood on the threshold, her face sagging with relief. “My lady. When the rider came from Zanya, I feared the worst.”

“The army is gone.”

Elda paled. “Lumestra preserve us.”

“The Council emptied the chapterhouses against us.”

“I thought the masters of the orders had sworn to take no side.”

“A knight’s promise is not what it was, and the Council nothing if not persuasive.” Katya closed her eyes, lost in the shuddering ground and brash clarions of recent memory. And the screams, most of all. “One charge, and we were lost.”