The Icemark Chronicles: The Cry of the Icemark Read Online Free Page A

the smaller throwing axes in her hand.
    “Give me something of a proper size,” she demanded indignantly, and nodded as a full-sized battle-ax was passed to her.
    By this time the apple had been replaced on the target, and with a huge effort she hefted the ax, took aim, drew back, and hurled with such force she fell to her knees. When she dared to look at the target, she saw the apple neatly split in twoat the foot of the thick throwing board. Laughing in relief, she accepted the cheers of the housecarls and allowed herself to be chaired around the tables.
    From high up on their shoulders, Thirrin could see through the swirling tendrils of smoke down the length of the Great Hall. Some instinct drew her eyes to the huge doors just as they burst open and a blast of cooler air flooded in, cutting through the thick bank of smoke like a hot coal through snow. The hall fell silent, and Thirrin breathed deep as the blast of clean air reached her. The smoke had now been almost completely blown away, and she had a clear view of soldiers marching through the doorway, dragging a huge shaggy figure between them.
    The troopers were wearing the uniform of the palace guard, and their business was obviously important, so some of the housecarls hurried to drag the trestle tables aside. Soon a wide aisle leading directly to the royal dais had been cleared, and the strange group began to march forward.
    “Put me down,” Thirrin ordered. The men who’d been carrying the Princess on their shoulders placed her on the floor, and she cut through the crowds to reach the upper table as the soldiers arrived. It was then that she saw exactly what they were dragging between them. It was the werewolf. Its wrists were tied with thick ropes to a pole that lay across its shoulders, and it was surrounded by a ring of sharp steel as each guard leveled his spear and stood ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
    The guards saluted the King. “My Lord, we bring the intruder from The-Land-of-the-Ghosts for sentence.”
    After a fraught few seconds trying to disentangle a terrified Primplepuss from his beard, Redrought’s reply was curt and gruff. “You should have killed it in the field! Waste of effortbringing it here.” He stroked Primplepuss gently in an attempt to calm her. “And you’ll get blood all over the floor!”
    Thirrin approached her father. “I claim the right of sentence!” she shouted, her voice echoing around the hall.
    The werewolf turned to look at her, its huge face beginning to lose its ferocious frown as if scenting some distant hope but not daring to believe it.
    The silence that followed was finally broken by the King. “You! Why?” he demanded, still grumpy after Primplepuss’s fright.
    “Because I first drew its blood. Its life by ancient law is mine.”
    Redrought considered for a moment, then said, “You’re right. How do you want it killed?”
    Thirrin smiled in gratitude at her father and, as usual, he relented and smiled back. “I don’t want it killed. I want to escort it to the border and set it free,” she said carefully, still smiling through the uproar of protest.
    “What?” the King roared in his best outraged-monarch voice. “It’s a monster, a freak from The-Land-of-the-Ghosts. The world will be a better place without it. Just string it up and slice it open and then let’s get on with the party.”
    Thirrin waited for the cheer that followed this to die down before kneeling in supplication. “My Lord Redrought Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield, Bear of the North, Guardian of the People, grant your daughter, your only child and heir to the Icemark throne, this boon and favor. I would lead the escort to the border and there release the creature to live and tell of this night’s doings.”
    Her father’s eyes had narrowed warily as soon as Thirrin had adopted the ceremonial language of the court. She was sometimes too much like her mother, who’d been as clever as asack of monkeys. But still,