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Back Iron Winter Save as PDF
Chapters (89)
  1. Title page
  2. Contents
  3. Map
  4. ONE
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. TWO
  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. THREE
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. FOUR
  77. 70
  78. 71
  79. 72
  80. 73
  81. 74
  82. 75
  83. 76
  84. 77
  85. 78
  86. 79
  87. Afterword
  88. By Stephen Baxter
  89. Copyright

‘Wait.’ He held his hand up. ‘There’s a condition. We Carthaginians have a practice. Very ancient, predates the Muslim invaders, even the wars with the Latins I think. We call it molk. A gift for the gods, in times of great stress. The greatest gift one can give.’

‘Molk?’

He leaned towards her. ‘The sacrifice of a child.’

She stiffened. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Put the boy in the army – if they will have him.’

‘A Northlander, in a Carthaginian army? It would destroy him.’

‘No. Starving outside the city walls will destroy him.’ He picked up a stylus and tapped his teeth. ‘I have links with the army council. These are difficult times – you know that. We always need recruits. Those wretched Hatti are said to be marching in great numbers. The city will actually pay a small bounty if one brings in recruits. So, you see, you are worth something to me after all. And it would be good for the city. Good for the boy, probably, too, to get him away from you. There’s the deal, and it’s the best you’re going to get. Or,’ he said casually, ‘you could prostitute yourself, I suppose. You’d earn a little before they wore you out. What’s it to be, Rina the Annid?’

Deep in a black corner of her heart she swore, not for the first time, that she would revenge herself on Barmocar, somehow, some day.

36

Pyxeas’ party descended from the land of ice and high meadows. Uzzia insisted they go slowly, for a traveller used to thin air could be as damaged by a sudden exposure to thicker air as easily as the other way around.

Slowly was all they could manage in any case. Having left Jamil under his cairn on the high desert, there were only the three of them now, the three survivors of the shattered caravan. Or four if you counted the mule. Pyxeas, for the sake of his pride, insisted on walking a few steps every day, but it was only a few steps before he had to be loaded up onto the back of the patient mule. He had never seemed older, never frailer, and his energy in the thin air of the roof of the world was a memory.

What was left of their baggage went on the mule’s back too, and on the backs of Uzzia and Avatak as they marched along. At least they were reasonably equipped. The robbery hadn’t been very efficient, and the panicking thieves had run off leaving a good deal of their own kit behind – clothes, blankets, water sacks, even boots. Avatak had been all for burning this stuff, but Uzzia persuaded him that if another man’s boots might save his life he should take them.