Traitor's Blade (The Greatcoats)
Sebastien de Castell
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With swashbuckling action that recall Dumas' Three Musketeers Sebastien de Castell has created a dynamic new fantasy series. In Traitor's Blade a disgraced swordsman struggles to redeem himself by protecting a young girl caught in the web of a royal conspiracy.
The King is dead, the Greatcoats have been disbanded, and Falcio Val Mond and his fellow magistrates Kest and Brasti have been reduced to working as bodyguards for a nobleman who refuses to pay them. Things could be worse, of course. Their employer could be lying dead on the floor while they are forced to watch the killer plant evidence framing them for the murder. Oh wait, that's exactly what's happening.
Now a royal conspiracy is about to unfold in the most corrupt city in the world. A carefully orchestrated series of murders that began with the overthrow of an idealistic young king will end with the death of an orphaned girl and the ruin of everything that Falcio, Kest, and Brasti have fought for. But if the trio want to foil the conspiracy, save the girl, and reunite the Greatcoats, they'll have to do it with nothing but the tattered coats on their backs and the swords in their hands, because these days every noble is a tyrant, every knight is a thug, and the only thing you can really trust is a traitor's blade.
my return with a trip to Orison, as delightful as that would no doubt be.’ The Duke smiled again. ‘It would no doubt be very delightful for me, cousin.’ Something wasn’t right. Perault was far too confident, pushing his luck with the woman who was soon to be his Queen. Feltock turned to me. ‘Think you can do to one of these armoured buggers what you did to my axeman back at the market? Get through those plates?’ ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Think you can do it forty times, nice and fast?’ ‘Probably
Valiana, who hadn’t spoken since Orison, put her arms around her. ‘Then where?’ Kest asked. ‘I suppose we could try to hide here, but I don’t imagine the locals will lie for us when the Duke’s men arrive.’ ‘How far behind us are they, do you suppose?’ I asked. Brasti took a deep breath. ‘Honestly? I don’t think they’re very far. They had better mounts and more of them, and we’ve had to stop far too often to outdistance them by much. The damn wagons could have caught up to us by now.’
grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him hard so that his nose was an inch from mine. I locked eyes with him. ‘Because. We’re. Not. Fucking. Assassins.’ ‘I should have the lot of you killed, you damnable treachers!’ Feltock growled. ‘Now, now; the Duke’s all for unity – he said so,’ Brasti said. ‘Let’s not spoil the party.’ ‘On your fucking honour – whatever that’s worth. On your fucking honour you swear to me you won’t hurt that girl, or I vow, Greatcoats or not, I’ll take the lot
Kest or Brasti.’ ‘From me, your Highness. From me.’ ‘Ah. You blame her for the death of the King.’ ‘I do.’ ‘Do you take no responsibility at all? Does it not matter to you that the King broke ancient laws, dismissed pacts and agreements of long standing held by his ancestors and the Dukes?’ ‘I know little of that, your Highness. I know only that this country is weak and decaying, and it is breaking apart, thanks to the injustice heaped on it by the nobility. I know only that my King tried to
back into guard. Lorenzo attacked again, using almost the exact same move. It’s not an uncommon trick to make it appear as if you’re going to repeat a feint, but this time to follow through with the blow. But in this case, with embarrassment as his aim, Lorenzo simply feinted exactly the same way, and produced exactly the same result. Poor Cairn was humiliated and left off-balance. The audience was stingingly unsympathetic. At first I was relieved: this would just be a way for Lorenzo to