A Man Rides Through By Stephen R Donaldson.pdf -

Herric stepped forward. His blood dripped onto the throne’s steps.

He had been fourteen when they gave him that brand. A page in the Duke’s household, eager and stupid, believing that service to power was the same as service to justice. He had learned otherwise the night the Duke ordered him to hold a torch while a debtor’s hands were broken, finger by finger. Herric had dropped the torch. The Duke had smiled and said, “You’ll learn, boy. Pain is the only teacher that never lies.” a man rides through by stephen r donaldson.pdf

He emerged in the dungeons. Empty, because the Duke preferred executions to imprisonment. Justice, the Duke called it. Efficiency, Herric called it. He did not call it anything aloud. Herric stepped forward

When the branded patch of skin fell to the floor with a wet slap, Herric sheathed his dagger and picked up his sword. A page in the Duke’s household, eager and

The great hall was lit by a single brazier. The Duke sat on his obsidian throne, a goblet of wine in his hand, a fur cloak draped over his shoulders. He was older than Herric remembered—grayer, thinner, his eyes still bright with the same cold amusement.