The City by Stella Gemmell
By Stella Gemmell
Outfitted up over the millennia, layer upon layer, the town is historic and giant. Over the centuries, it has sprawled past its partitions, the reason for consistent warfare with neighbouring peoples and kingdoms, laying waste to what used to be eco-friendly and fertile.
And on the center of the town is living the emperor. Few have ever obvious him. those that have take note a guy in his top and but he can be very outdated. a few speculate that he's not human; others ponder whether certainly he ever really used to be. And a small quantity have come to a determined end: that the one option to cease the ceaseless slaughter is to finish the emperor's unnaturally lengthy life.
From the rotting, flood-ruined catacombs underneath the town, the place the negative fight to stick alive, to the blood-soaked fields of conflict, the place so few heroes live to tell the tale, those rebels pin their hopes on one guy. a guy who used to be the emperor's optimal basic. A respected soldier, who may lead an rebellion and unite town. yet a guy who used to be betrayed, imprisoned and tortured, and is now believed to be dead...
Stella Gemmell has a level in politics and is a journalist. She used to be married to the the world over acclaimed and bestselling myth novelist David Gemmell and labored with him on his 3 'Troy' novels, concluding the ultimate e-book, Troy: Fall of Kings, following his loss of life in 2006. Stella lives in East Sussex and writes in what was the dairy of 15th-century farmhouse. the town is her first solo novel.
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Arobynn encouraged cutthroat behavior. Even when they were children, he’d set her and Sam against each other, use their victories and failures against them. He’d made her see everyone but Arobynn and Ben as a potential enemy. As allies, yes, but also as foes to be closely watched. Weakness was never to be shown at any cost. Brutality was rewarded. And education and culture were equally important—words could be just as deadly as steel. But the Silent Assassins . . Though they, too, might be killers, they looked to each other for learning.
Instantly, Sam was dragged out of his chair, his arms pinned back by Tern and Mullin. Harding took a step in front of them, his fist flexing. “No,” Celaena breathed as she met Sam’s wide-eyed stare. Arobynn wouldn’t be that cruel—he wouldn’t make her watch as he hurt Sam. Something tight and aching built in her throat. But Celaena kept her head high, even as Arobynn said quietly to her, “You are not going to enjoy this. You will not forget this. ” She whipped her head back to Sam, a plea for Harding not to hurt him on her lips.
Given what Arobynn had done to her, she hardly felt defensive of the assassins in Adarlan’s empire. But . . but to see all these assassins gathered here, so much collective power and knowledge, and to know that they wouldn’t dare intrude on Arobynn’s—on her—territory . . Celaena went on eating in silence as Ansel and Mikhail and a few others around them talked quietly. Vows of silence, Ansel had explained earlier, were taken for as long as each person saw fit. Some spent weeks in silence; others, years.