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Mercenary Law
Mercenary Law
Mercenary Law
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Mercenary Law

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Tyris and Stilthius Menion and the sell-swords of the Black River Company find themselves at odds over the fate of a prisoner and facing the question of whether or not honor means more than the code that binds them.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 17, 2016
ISBN9781524262303
Mercenary Law

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    Book preview

    Mercenary Law - Edward K. Ryan

    Mercenary Law

    Edward K. Ryan

    Mercenary Law

    Copyright © 2016 Edward K. Ryan

    www.edwardkryan.com

    Cover design © 2016 Slate Run Publishing, LLC.

    Cover Art : Valery Sibrikov

    Published by Slate Run Publishing LLC.

    www.slaterunpub.com

    ISBN : 978-0692690147

    ––––––––

    All rights reserved. Nothing herein may be reproduced in any way without written permission from the author. All events and characters in this work are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people and events is coincidental and unintentional.

    MERCENARY LAW

    TYRIS MENION SAW THE glint of steel in the firelight before the rest of them.

    It was fortune more than vigilance, his position a bit back from the table as he stretched his long legs giving him a slightly better view of the room. He was as drunk as the others, the whole of the day consumed by dice, women, food and enough beer to swim in. Grim and hardened men, each and every one, that was what the mercenaries of Black River were, but drink had rendered them relaxed and foolish.

    Crowded about the table, their heads bent over cards and wooden cups, their arms wrapped around their piles of coin or the nearest wench, none of them paid the slightest attention to the hooded woman who slipped through the mass of revelers in the tavern and headed straight for their table. Not a single pair of eyes lifted as the hood brushed back to reveal the youthful face, twisted with rage, eyes burning with dread purpose. Had Tyris not pushed back his chair to relieve his cramping calves, no one would have seen a damn thing.

    Until that knife was buried in the back of Pike’s neck.

    He shouted a warning as he threw himself up out of his seat, knocking the chair back and jarring the table so that cups and coins nearly spilled. To his right, his brother Stilthius was slightly faster. Or perhaps, he would decide later, just a bit less drunk. One huge, black hand seized Pike’s shoulder and shoved him roughly aside. The chair beneath the mercenary tipped to one side and dumped him, his cards and his ale in a heap on the floor.

    The descending knife narrowly missed Stilthius’s outstretched arm and thumped

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