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Back Copper Chain Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. CONTENTS
  5. MAP
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

The point entered just below Philippos’s sternum, the warrior grunting as he pushed the hilt with both hands, shoving the blade hard through the initial resistance until the weapon slid in more easily and finally emerged from the lord’s back. Philippos’s eyes shot wide open. His face twisted in agony as he gasped. He clutched at the blade, heedless of the razor-sharp edge.

‘Father!’ Isobel screamed.

The swordsman grunted again as he pulled on the hilt. Red blood poured from the wound in the blade’s wake, staining the nobleman’s white tunic. Philippos stared down at his chest and then staggered forward. He fell to one knee and coughed. Crimson liquid spattered from his lips and then he tilted, staring up at the ceiling. He fell backward, hands pressed around the wound in his chest.

Isobel gasped. She crumpled, falling to her knees before her father’s corpse. There was sudden movement as the dark-haired girl, ignoring Kyphos and the two swordsmen, rushed to the nobleman’s side. She pressed down on the gash in Philippos’s chest, despite the fact that the man’s unblinking eyes announced his departure from life. Realizing her efforts were futile, the novice stared up at Kyphos, her hands red with blood and her narrowed eyes accusing.

‘Spill no more blood!’ The high priestess spread her arms and spoke in a powerful voice. ‘The goddess sees all!’

Kyphos hesitated. The girl glaring up at him from Philippos’s side was young, an innocent. The high priestess was unimportant to his purpose. Nilus had said he needed to kill everyone; he’d insisted that Kyphos leave no witnesses. But Kyphos couldn’t bring himself to kill two priestesses in their own temple.

‘Then stay out of our way,’ he snapped. He turned to his men, pointing at Isobel. ‘Take her.’

‘No! No!’ Isobel cried, staring at her dead father as the two swordsmen hauled her to her feet.

Lunging forward, the high priestess grabbed one of the warriors and tried to hold him back. The warrior snarled and tossed her away, shoving her with terrible force. The woman’s head struck the solid stone of the rear wall hard enough to leave a red mark before she slid to the floor.

The dark-haired girl cried out and launched herself at the other warrior. With a start Kyphos saw that she had a ewer in her hand, and, showing surprising strength, she lifted it high and shattered it against the back of the man’s head. He roared in pain and responded instantly, smashing her across the face with the hilt of his sword.

Isobel broke away and ran for freedom, only to be met by one of Kyphos’s men. The black-cloaked warrior wrapped his arms around her while she kicked and screamed.

Nearby, the injured swordsman stood over the fallen girl, his face red and chest heaving. He kicked her hard and then lifted his sword.