Princess of Blood Read online

  ‘He’ll kill you for this,’ Ashel spat as he reached the door.

  Sulay shook her head. ‘For Jinks? Pah – you reckon anyone in this world ever felt so strongly about that dumb-as-a-stone wretch? I doubt the man’s own ma cared much. Must’ve been better children to hand – mebbe neighbours or passing urchins, even.’

  ‘Fuck you, Sulay!’

  The sudden shout made the rug twitch and a deep growl rumbled across the room like thunder. Lynx looked down again. He honestly couldn’t even see which end was making the noise – no part of it looked anything more than a shapeless heap of rough, thick cords. Ashel seemed more concerned, though, and he fell backwards through the tavern door. Lynx caught a glimpse of snowflakes falling, a thin frost on the ground beyond, before the door banged shut again.

  Sulay gave a snort and turned to the bar, banging her tankard on the bartop. ‘Dalis, stop cowering and fetch me another drink!’

  ‘Reckon it’s time we left.’ Lynx made to drain his own beer, but hesitated and put it back down untouched.

  ‘Listen to the man,’ called Dalis from his back room. ‘Bar’s closed.’

  The big barkeep had retreated there as soon as voices had been raised, anticipating gunfire. The other occupants of the room were like statues at their tables – only four people in total, all farmers in heavy coats despite the fire burning to the right of the bar.

  ‘You takin’ advice from strangers now?’ Sulay asked.

  ‘Ones who speak sense, aye. I don’t want you round here when … When he comes.’

  ‘Load of old women you all are,’ Sulay declared, cheeks flushed pink. ‘And I should know, what with being one myself. Least I ain’t about to piss myself from anything but elderly lady problems.’

  ‘Sulay,’ Lynx said again.

  ‘Aye fine.’ She looked down at the dead man on the floor with an appraising expression. ‘Might need this, though,’ she said, groaning as she eased herself down on to one knee.

  Lynx watched her unbuckle the man’s gun-belt and pull it out from under him. He made no sound until she started patting his pockets, looking for his purse.

  ‘Leave it,’ he said firmly, one eye on the rug that had only just stopped growling.

  ‘Oh right,’ she said, squinting up at him. ‘Yeah, yer morals. Damn useless things if you ask me. The pistol’s okay, though?’

  ‘We might need it, true enough,’ Lynx said, only too aware of the paper-thin distinction he was making.

  ‘And here’s me with all this money I don’t need?’ Sulay grumbled, but she straightened up all the same.

  ‘It’s different.’

  ‘If you say so, my stupidly named friend.’

  She buckled the gun-belt around her waist and seemed to stand a little taller once she was done, the heel of her hand resting with familiar ease on the pistol grip.

  ‘Well there we are then,’ Sulay said, taking Lynx’s abandoned tankard and draining it with one gulp. ‘Heel, boys.’

  The rug eased itself up, a straight back and the hump of a head that described the rough shape of a dog somewhere underneath. It was huge; its back almost on a level with Lynx’s waist and made even more bulky by the long hanging cords of fur that hid its body from view. Sulay headed off towards the door, the massive dog padding alongside.

  Lynx watched them go, the warmth of beer turning cold in his gut. The dead body at his feet stared accusingly up at him.

  He’d only punched the man once – not that hard even. Jinks had been prodding him in the cheek, shoving one stinking finger into the tattooed flesh there. Telling him to back off had only worsened the situation as it turned out. Lynx hadn’t put his full weight into that punch, but Jinks had fallen all the same. The side of his skull had just crumpled as it hit the corner of the short bar and then Jinks had been no more, a dead thing before he’d even stopped moving.

  ‘I said “heel”, Lynx!’ Sulay called, half-through the open doorway. ‘And leave all the talking up to me, understand?’

  ‘What? No. What talking?’

  ‘Exactly! That’s why you leave it up to me.’

  ‘Ah shit,’ Lynx muttered. He stepped over the body and followed her out into the cold.

  TOM LLOYD was born in 1979 in Berkshire.

  After a degree in International Relations he went straight into publishing where he still works. He never received the memo about suitable jobs for writers and consequently has never been a kitchenhand, hospital porter, pigeon hunter, or secret agent.

  • • •

  He lives in Oxford, isn’t one of those authors who gives a damn about the history of the font used in his books and only believes in forms of exercise that allow him to hit something.

  • • •

  Visit him online at @tomlloydwriter or on facebook.

  Also by Tom Lloyd from Gollancz:

  The Twilight Reign:

  The Stormcaller

  The Twilight Herald

  The Grave Thief

  The Ragged Man

  The Dusk Watchman

  The God Tattoo

  Empire of a Hundred Houses

  Moon’s Artifice

  Old Man’s Ghosts

  The God Fragments:

  Stranger of Tempest

  Princess of Blood

  Honour Under Moonlight (novella)

  The Man with One Name (novella)

  THE STORMCALLER

  Book One of The Twilight Reign

  Tom Lloyd

  In a land ruled by prophecy and the whims of Gods, a young man finds himself at the heart of a war he barely understands, wielding powers he may never be able to control.

  Isak is a white-eye, feared and despised in equal measure. Trapped in a life of poverty, hated and abused by his father, Isak dreams of escape, but when his chance comes, it isn’t to a place in the army as he’d expected. Instead, the Gods have marked him out as heir-elect to the brooding Lord Bahl, the Lord of the Fahlan.

  Lord Bahl is also a white-eye, a genetic rarity that produces men stronger, more savage and more charismatic than their normal counterparts. Their magnetic charm and brute strength both inspires and oppresses others.

  Now is the time for revenge, and the forging of empires. With mounting envy and malice, the men who would themselves be kings watch Isak, chosen by Gods as flawed as the humans who serve them, as he is shaped and moulded to fulfil the prophecies that are encircling him like scavenger birds.

  • • •

  ‘The world is beautifully realised, the battles suitably grim and the dragon, when it appears, is magnificent’ Guardian

  ‘Fantasy with a magnificence of conception, a sense of looming presences whose purposes are not ours to apprehend’ Time Out

  ‘Gallops along with scarcely a dull moment’ The Times

  ‘Lloyd creates a vivid world … he echoes writers such as Moorcock and Gemmell’ Interzone

  MOON’S ARTIFICE

  Book One of Empire of a Hundred Houses

  Tom Lloyd

  Tom Lloyd kicks off a spectacular new fantasy series!

  In a quiet corner of the Imperial City, Investigator Narin discovers the result of his first potentially lethal mistake. Minutes later he makes a second.

  After an unremarkable career Narin finally has the chance of promotion to the hallowed ranks of the Lawbringers – guardians of the Emperor’s laws and bastions for justice in a world of brutal expediency. Joining that honoured body would be the culmination of a lifelong dream, but it couldn’t possibly have come at a worse time.

  On the cusp of an industrial age that threatens the warrior caste’s rule, the Empire of a Hundred Houses awaits civil war between noble factions. Centuries of conquest has made the empire a brittle and bloated monster; constrained by tradition and crying out for change. To save his own life and those of untold thousands Narin must understand the key to it all – Moon’s Artifice, the poison that could destroy an empire.

  • • •

  ‘A hugely assured modern fa
ntasy novel’ SFX

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  ABOUT GOLLANCZ

  Gollancz is the oldest SF publishing imprint in the world. Since being founded in 1927 Gollancz has continued to publish a focused selection of bestselling and award-winning authors. The front-list includes Ben Aaronovitch, Joe Abercrombie, Charlaine Harris, Joanne Harris, Joe Hill, Alastair Reynolds, Patrick Rothfuss, Nalini Singh and Brandon Sanderson.

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  Copyright

  First published in Great Britain in 2017 by Gollancz

  an imprint of The Orion Publishing Group Ltd

  Carmelite House, 50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  An Hachette UK Company

  This eBook first published in 2017 by Gollancz.

  Copyright © Tom Lloyd 2017

  The moral right of 2017 to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN (eBook) 978 1 473 21322 7

  www.tomlloyd.co.uk

  www.orionbooks.co.uk

  www.gollancz.co.uk