Sinner Read Online Free Page B

Priam, and her father, Karel. They had once ruled as kings of Achar, a vast realm that had stretched between the Andeis and Widowmaker seas and from the Icescarp Alps to the Sea of Tyrre.
    But as Achar was no more, so too had the monarchy died. Acharite lands had been split up between Avar, Icarii and human, its territory incorporated into the larger Tencendor, its peoples divested of their king.
    As he stared at the portraits of his uncle and grandfather, Zared remembered how well both had reigned. True, they had supported the Brotherhood of the Seneschal, an organisation that had brought only evil to all those who lived in the land, but in their own way Priam and Karel had ruled well and wisely. The monarchy had been brought into disrepute only when Zared’s older half-brother, Borneheld, had murdered Priam and taken the throne.
    There was no portrait of Borneheld. Zared’s mouth quirked. Borneheld was a son and brother best forgotten.
    He swallowed the last of his wine, still staring at the likenesses of Priam and Karel. What would it be like to govern (Zared’s mind shied away from the word “reign”) over such a large territory? What would he do with it? How would he improve it? How might he best help the West recover from the debts Askam had saddled it with?
    Ah! These thoughts were treason!
    Zared blinked, and started to turn away, but as he did so his eyes were caught by the golden circlet on Priam’s brow, and he stopped, his thoughtful gaze lingering on the gleam of gold as the shadows of dusk gathered about him.

2
Master Goldman’s Soiree
    “ C urse the Corolean Emperor to all the fire pits of the AfterLife,” Askam seethed, and tore the parchment he held into tiny pieces. “Why does he hound my life so?”
    Askam’s four advisers, two minor noblemen, the Master of the Guilds of Carlon and the Chamberlain of Askam’s household, stood diplomatically silent. One million, three hundred and eighty-five thousand gold pieces was the reason the Corolean Emperor so hounded Askam. To be precise, one million, three hundred and eighty-five gold pieces that Askam owed the Emperor.
    Jannymire Goldman, the Master of the Guilds, dropped his gaze to his thick-fingered hands folded politely before him. He’d advised Askam not to take out such a massive loan with the Emperor, but Askam had needed the money badly, and the Emperor had been willing to lend.
    Now he wanted it back.
    And what if Askam could not pay (and Goldman knew Askam could not pay)? What then? What might the Emperor demand as recompense? Goldman shuddered to think. The Coroleans would not invade, never that, butthey certainly might lay claim to some lands or, gods forbid, to Carlon itself.
    Would that make StarSon Caelum finally take a more personal hand in the West’s affairs? Caelum, although concerned about Askam’s increasing debt, had thus far preferred to see if Askam could not solve his problems himself, but Goldman knew that Caelum would never stand by and allow the Coroleans to assume control of even the most barren of fields in Tencendor.
    “Well, there’s nothing for it,” Askam said in a milder tone of voice, “but to pay the damned man.”
    Goldman raised his eyes in surprise, as did the other three advisers. Pay? How?
    Askam took a very deep breath and sat back in his chair, staring at the four men ranged before his desk. All the gods in the universe knew he hated to do this but…not only would it solve most of his financial problems, it would also stop the flow of his people north.
    And, perhaps, wipe the smirk off Zared’s face.
    “Gentlemen,” Askam said softly, “I have no option. From fifth-day next week the taxes on goods moving up and down the Nordra, as goods moving along all inland roads in the West, will be raised to a third of the total value of the goods so moved.”
    Goldman could not believe he’d heard right. A third? A third tax on all goods moved would cripple most merchants and traders, but it would destroy