The Shattered Crown
THE SHATTERED CROWN
RICHARD FORD
Steelhaven: Book #2
Copyright © 2014 Richard Ford
All rights reserved.
First published as an Ebook in 2014 by
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
Cover illustration © Lee Gibbons
eISBN: 978-0755394081
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
338 Euston Road
London NW1 3BH
www.headline.co.uk
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Praise for Richard Ford
Also by Richard Ford
About the Book
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Epilogue
Richard Ford hails from Leeds but now resides in Wiltshire, in the first town on the Thames. His first novel, Kultus, was published in 2011. Herald of the Storm, book one in the Steelhaven series, is his epic fantasy debut.
‘In a subgenre often bogged down in convention, Herald is a breath of fresh air … Definitely a recommended read!’ Drying Ink
‘You’ll find yourself looking forward to what Ford dreams up next’ SFX
‘Exciting and different’ The British Fantasy Society
‘A perfect example of tight, gritty, character-driven storytelling’ Luke Scull, author of The Grim Company
‘Violent, vicious and darkly funny. Book Two can’t come fast enough’ Fantasy Faction
‘A series to watch. Great stuff’ Falcata Times
Herald of the Storm, book one in the Steelhaven series,
is also available from Headline
Heroes must rise …
The King is dead. His daughter, untested and alone, now wears the Steel Crown. And a vast horde is steadily carving a bloody road south, hell-bent on razing Steelhaven to the ground.
… or the city will fall
Before the city faces the terror that approaches, it must crush the danger already lurking within its walls. But will the cost of victory be as devastating as that of defeat?
For Mum
Once again I have to thank my agent, John Jarrold, for all his help and guidance. This year we’ll definitely go to the carvery!
My undying gratitude also goes out to the guys and gals at Headline who work tirelessly to turn my words into a real life book and get it out there to as many readers as they can find. Special thanks to Patrick Insole, Caitlin Raynor, Tom Noble, Christina Demosthenous and Joanna Kaliszewska.
I’d also like to thank all the readers out there who took the time and effort to post a review of Herald of the Storm. Your views are much appreciated.
Lastly, big thanks to the chap who holds this whole crazy show together, my editor John Wordsworth. Only one more to go … maybe.
Saviour’s Bridge spanned the River Storway where it ran between Steelhaven and the Old City. It was no doubt named to venerate the Teutonian saviour Arlor – that deified hero of old, raised to godhood by the teeming, ignorant masses.
From the centre of the bridge, facing north, the river could be seen slithering its way for miles, wending through the fields and woodland. As it flowed towards the city it brought with it all manner of offerings from the land, the flotsam and jetsam of the Free States, bloated carcasses of a nation condemned.
It was also bringing Forest’s mark.
Rain hammered down, soaking his cloak, bouncing off the bridge and running in a fast flood into the river. Watching from the centre of the bridge, Forest could see the wide river barge sitting low in the water, cruising towards him. Its four oars either side dipped in rhythm, pulled smoothly by powerful rowers. At its prow stood a tall man, his hood thrown back despite the inclement weather. His proud bearing was obvious even from a distance. But that was to be expected – he was a general of one of the famed Free Companies, a mercenary lord, tempered on the battlefield, and not just skilled in the sword but equally cunning of mind – he had to be to have lived for so long. No one survived at the head of one of the Free Companies without a certain shrewd ruthlessness. No one could command men who fought for coin without being able to outwit those who would try to usurp his position.
The general was flanked by his men, grizzled veterans all, ready to give their lives for him, though here at least he need anticipate no danger. This was Steelhaven, seat of power within the Free States, and its enemies, the savage Khurtas, were still hundreds of leagues to the north. Besides, its enemies were not his enemies – the general had not yet pledged the service of his company and his men to the defence of Steelhaven.
And Forest had been sent to ensure he never would.
The barge was within range now, and Forest reached beneath his cloak for his yew bow. In a pouch at his belt was the hempen bowstring, treated with beeswax to resist the wet. Though the rain would eventually slacken the string, he would not linger long enough for it to hamper his shot.
In one swift and graceful movement Forest strung his bow and pulled an arrow from his quiver. Alone on the bridge in the pouring rain, he was unobserved. Though the gate at the eastern side of the bridge was guarded by Greencoats, they were hunkered beneath their shelter and wouldn’t see him. Down on the barge, the general and his men, blinded by the downpour, would not spot him until it was too late.
Forest nocked and drew, aiming through the rain, as the general’s barge came closer with every breath. The slight breeze at his back, blowing in from the Midral Sea, would only make the flight of his arrow swifter.
As he drew in one last breath, the rain seemed to slow. His target was all at once perfectly clear as Forest saw the path of the arrow in his mind’s eye; saw it streaking through the air.
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