Chapter Eight

 

He stepped down then

among women and men,

the sigil stripped

in her foul cleansing

there on the blood-soaked sand

spilled the lives

of Emperor and First Sword—

so tragic this treachery . . .

He was of the Old Guard,

commanding the honed edge

of Empire’s fury,

and so in stepping down

but not away

he remained the remembrance

before her eyes, the curse

of conscience she would not stand.

A price was placed before him

that he glanced over in first passing

unknowing and so unprepared

in stepping down among women

and men, he found what

he’d surrendered and damned

its reawakening . . .

THE BRIDGEBURNERS
TOC THE YOUNGER