This is the opening of the story, in which we meet the MC Trist and his peculiar companion;
The tall man stepped over a smouldering rug. Around him fires flickered and bodies lay on the carpet, in the chairs, one even half out of the window.
“Might
have been a bit over the top,” he said.
“You
do the sword, I do the fire.”
“Yes,”
Trist said, looking around. “I just hadn’t expected quite that
much fire.”
“They’re
down, aren’t they?”
“The
problem, Feng, is that not many of them are likely to get up again.”
He
found a little blaze that was feeling its way towards the curtains, and stamped it out in a billow of sparks and ash. Next to
it was the man in the window. Trist pulled him away. Glass crackled
and fell to the floor. A shard six inches long was lodged in the
man’s throat, and Trist grimaced.
Looking
out, he saw the garden below was deserted. Well, not quite. A lone
gardener fled for his life and vanished as Trist watched.
“Trouble?”
Feng asked.
“There
will be. The servants will go straight to the Watch. We’ll have
company very soon.”
“We
knew that would happen.”
He
shrugged. “Maybe not so fast.”
“Lucky
you’ve got me then,” Feng said.
Movement
drew Trist’s eye. One of the slumped figures had begun to stir. A
young man, hair singed and clothes sooty, his back turned. He pushed
up on his hands and then froze as Trist’s blade kissed the skin
under his throat.
“Had
a nice rest?” Trist asked. “I’m so glad. Fresh minds find
answers so quickly, don’t you think?”
The
man was young, probably a few years short of twenty. A fold at
the outside of his eyes, which swivelled around the room. When they
fell on Feng he gave a little whimper.
“Let’s
start with some easy questions,” Trist said. “What’s your
name?”
“My
– my name?”
“Don’t
you have one?”
“Uh…
Anterl.”
“Well,
good evening, Anterl. I trust you’ve had a good day? Up until the
last few minutes, anyway. No? Well, here’s another question. How do
you like working for Margon Sleeth?”
“It’s
all right,” the youth said.
“You
like working for Sleeth,” Trist said. “The drug dealer. The man
who brings waste and death to hundreds. You like it.”
No
answer. The youth trembled.
The scene goes on, but that's enough for now. The story seems to have more dialogue and less narrative than usual for me, which wasn't a conscious choice (well, not at first). It also has a proper anti-hero, and later a strange lot of characters, some human and some not so much. And it's really huge fun.
Hope you liked the taster. If you see anything obviously wrong or clanky, please let me know. I reckon I can take it y'know. Come to that, let me know if you enjoyed it, the old ego could always use a stroke...
