High Bailiff Raymond Thorn stood upon the town steps and struck his iron rod against the granite mounting block. “By decree of the High Court of Military Court trial, the fraudulent monument of Marshal Brand is ordered removed from public soil!”
Tomas Reed raised his right arm. “Take the strain!”
Sixteen heavy draft horses leaned forward into their leather collars, their iron shoes digging deep furrows into the frozen gravel. Behind them, five hundred commoner veterans gripped the four-inch manila cables, their boots finding purchase in the rutted snow.
“Heave!” Sile Rook’s bellow shook the square.
The four thick cables groaned, stretching taut as iron bars, shedding frost in a pale shower. For five heartbeats, the fourteen-ton bronze giant statue resisted, the iron anchor pins in the granite stone base groaning with terrible crushing weight.
Then came a sound like four pistol shots fired in rapid row—SNAP! CRACK! CRACK! SNAP!
The four wrought-iron dowels snapped clean through at the stone line. The huge bronze horse tilted forward, its rear hooves lifting from the stone base. For a single terrifying second, the statue hung suspended in the pale winter sky.
With a huge, rushing roar, fourteen tons of statuary bronze crashed face-down into the frozen gravel of the square.
