KELLEN KNEW THEY were running out of time.
The Black Watch, having finished most of their inquiries in town, had already begun questioning a few of the residents on the outskirts of the city limits. It wouldn’t be long before they were scouring the countryside as well. If the council had not managed to pull off a rescue by the time the Tower’s guards were through, they were going to lose their chance for good.
Easthaven might have been the capital city of Sidara, but its size was nothing compared to that of Aramoor, or Rhowynn for that matter. Kellen knew it wouldn’t take the Black Watch long to complete their work and be
on their way. For his family’s sake, he would like nothing better than for the white riders to be done and gone, but for Saleena’s sake, he needed them to remain where they were long enough for the council to pull off their heist.
There were still a few pieces to the puzzle that needed to be put into
place before they were ready to attempt something as crazy as liberating a prisoner right out from under the Black Watch’s noses, especially considering they needed to accomplish the task while leaving the Black Watch to believe that no outside force had been involved.
Gracefully, Kellen swung himself off Your Highness, a chestnut-colored stallion with a royal temperament that earned him his name. Tying the horse to an empty hitching ring, Kellen headed up the steps of the East Inn.
He decided to stop and see if there was any new information to be gathered concerning the Black Watch’s activities in town. One positive
feature about living in a city like Easthaven was that a person could always find ready gossip if they knew where to look, and there was no better place for uncovering loose lips than the East Inn.
Stepping inside, Kellen scanned the room as he let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Sadly, the place was rather empty. There were a few scattered regulars around the bar, and a single table near the front with a couple
patrons enjoying what looked to be a late breakfast or possibly an early lunch.
Kellen sighed. He didn’t see anyone he recognized. He was about to leave when he spotted a lone figure sitting at a table near the back. The individual was strategically placed against the wall, keeping an eye on everyone while she ate. Recognizing the short-cropped white hair, he started across the room.
Sheeva watched him like a hawk. Her posture stiffened as he approached.
Kellen could see the flicker of the table’s candelabra reflecting in her amber-colored eyes. “Mind if I join you?” He gestured to an empty chair on the adjacent side of the table.
She nodded her approval with enough enthusiasm to cause any other sane person to take the hint and walk away. But Kellen had never been
accused of being conventional, and so he pulled out the wooden chair and sat down. She kept a watchful eye on his hands. He folded them on the table for her benefit.
After ordering a warmed cider from one of the Aboloff’s younger brood, Kellen turned back around to study the overly-cautious assassin.
“I hope you’re finding Easthaven to your liking?”
“It’s . . . quiet,” she remarked. Her eyes were full of energy. They appeared to be the only part of her that held any hint of emotion. But it was enough for Kellen to tell how dangerous she was.
After spending an evening watching the woman’s lack of reaction to the council’s questioning of her admittance, Kellen had decided to take a more direct approach. “You’re a Night Walker.” His remark wasn’t left as a question.
Before he had a chance to say anything more, her figure warped and then vanished.
“Hold on, I want to show you something.” Scanning the nearly empty room to make sure no one was watching, Kellen reached behind his head and withdrew a silver chain he had wrapped around his neck. He pulled the pendant out from where he kept it under his tunic and laid it on the table, its jewel facing upwards. He rested his elbows on the uneven wooden planks in front of him as he waited for her response, already knowing what it would be.
“Where did you get that?” came an invisible voice to his left. Her words carried the first sense of emotion he had heard from her since their introduction.
Kellen didn’t move. He continued to stare straight ahead. “If you would be so kind as to retake your seat, I’ll be happy to tell you.” His voice was calm and reassuring, much like when trying to coax a wild animal out of its hole.
The little waitress reappeared with his drink. She slid the coins from the top of the table into her palm, and curtsied. “Thank you most kindly, sir,”
she said, glancing at the empty chair across from him. “Did your lady friend leave?”
“She’ll be right back,” he said with a wistful smile. The little girl nodded and then took off for the kitchen doors.
Kellen sat in silence and continued to wait, staring patiently at the wall in front of him. Suddenly, he was no longer admiring the grains of wood paneling but a detached face that couldn’t help but betray a strong sense of curiosity.
“I have never seen a moonstone in the hands of another,” she said, rubbing her fingers across its smooth pearl-like surface. “It signifies a great debt.”
“There has been a story passed down in my family for generations,” Kellen said, “of the birth of the Night Walkers. Few have heard the tale or know of their existence. And in my own defense, the story has possibly degraded a bit with the telling, but the amulet is proof enough of their
presence.” He momentarily glanced at the stone. Much like Sheeva’s eyes, it appeared to release a faint glow.
The white-haired assassin listened, her eyes revealing both trepidation and delight.
“The story takes place over a hundred years ago, deep in the heart of the Sidaran Forest. My great-great-grandfather told of the time he saved a Night Walker from a band of poachers.”
Sheeva’s face twitched. Kellen couldn’t tell if it had been a smile or a frown.
“Now everyone knows that Walkers are said to be part wraith. They walk through walls, make themselves invisible, fly through the night air feasting on the blood of their victims, and the only time you ever see one is the moment before you die.”
He interpreted her eyes, and was pleased to see the amusement he found there. “However,” he said, “I don’t exactly put much stock in folklore,
faerie tales, or children’s stories. I have, however, come to realize that even the most bizarre of legends have a kernel of truth buried somewhere deep within. But I digress.”
He cleared his throat to continue. “The evening was cool and the moon was bright, and my grandfather had been tracking a ruthless band of
poachers for three days near the foot of the Angoran Mountains. From the overturned leaves and displaced brush, he knew he was getting close.
“He had just skirted a dense copse of pine when he caught a glimpse of their campsite, or what was left of it. There were bodies everywhere, most scattered around the dying embers of their cook fire. It didn’t take my grandfather very long to see there was no life left in them. He was about to leave the protection of his hiding spot when he caught a glimpse of another one, half-sitting in the shadows. He appeared to be wounded. He figured
there must have been some kind of falling out, and this one had been the only survivor. The man didn’t look like he was going to make it through the night.
“My grandfather was turning to leave when he heard a voice call out behind him. The injured man said he could see my grandfather and that he might as well come on out. As quietly as he could, he made his way out from the shadows and skirted the tree line to where the figure waited with his back propped against an old stump.
“By the time my grandfather reached the man, he had gone silent. His head was slumped to the side. Naturally, he thought the man was dead and started to feel for a pulse when the man’s eyes opened. And there they were, two glowing yellow orbs staring back at him, like a large mountain cat. He too had a full head of white hair.”
Sheeva shifted in her seat ever so slightly as Kellen paused to take another sip of his cider. “Well, to make a long story short, my grandfather had grown up hearing the scary tales of the Night Walkers, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave the man there to bleed out, so he managed to build a sleigh with thick palmetto leaves and drag the man back to a small cabin he occasionally used on his longer treks. It took three days before the night walker’s fever broke and his breathing steadied. He had several knife wounds, some cracked ribs, a broken arm, and what looked to be deep bites in the bottom of one leg from a steel bear trap.”
Kellen took another slow pull on his tankard, not wanting to rush the story. “My great-great-grandfather had lost his first wife in a raid, so he had plenty of time to help nurse the man back to health again. Living on his own like he did, he probably enjoyed the company.
“It took at least a week before the Walker would say more than two words, and even longer still to get a complete sentence out of him. But, with time and trust, he eventually opened up. The man said his name was Arnoni. With a simple crutch, my grandfather constructed out of a large limb, the two of them spent hours walking through the forest discussing the similarities of their lives. My grandfather told of his family and the tragedy they had endured, while Arnoni told of how he had come to be snared by
one of the poacher’s traps.”
Kellen could tell Sheeva was rather entranced in the telling and wondered what life experiences had brought her, a Night Walker, to live as an assassin. “It was during one of those long walks that Arnoni told my grandfather of the Night Walkers and their origins. He told of how they had been created near the end of the Second Age at the height of man’s use of magic. How their blood had been mixed with that of dragons, or some such creature which had come through the tear between realms, along with the fae, in an attempt to create the perfect soldiers for the wizard’s armies.
“He also confessed that after centuries of being used as warriors and assassins, his people had eventually turned on their masters and fled to the mountains, vowing never to use their abilities for killing again.”
Kellen finished the rest of his cider with a short swallow, giving Sheeva time to process the expanse of knowledge he possessed of her people. Her eyes betrayed both anger and guilt. “It was at that time, Arnoni gave my grandfather the amulet,” Kellen said as he slid his fingers around the silver chain and lifted it to take a closer look. The amulet dangled provocatively between the two. “He told him it was a life-bond between them, and it signified the bearer as a friend and brother of the Night Walkers.”
“It’s a lovely story,” Sheeva said rather coldly, retaining her perfect pose, “but for all I know your father was the poacher, and after killing Arnoni, took the amulet for himself.”
“Well, as we both know, the amulet can only be given, and never taken, or it loses its translucence.” Sheeva’s eyes narrowed slightly. Kellen placed the amulet back around his neck and tucked it safely under his tunic.
Sheeva watched, with a hint of longing, as the jewel slid underneath his garment and out of sight.
“I see you know your lore, Master Kellen. And when do you plan on sharing this information with the others?”
Kellen leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I won’t . . . if you can tell me a story in return.”
Sheeva glared. “What do you want to hear?”
“I want to know why a Night Walker has forsaken her path and is now selling her services to the highest bidder.”
Sheeva lowered her eyes to the table. “I had a twin brother.” She took a deep breath and didn’t say anything for an uncomfortable amount of time. Kellen was wondering if maybe he had pushed a little too hard when she finally continued. “Some hunters found him playing in the woods, and recognizing him for what he was, they thought they’d have some fun with him. So they gave him a head start and then hunted him down like an
animal.”
Sheeva’s voice quivered. Kellen could see her anger swelling. “I found him two days later. They had hung him from a tree and gutted him like a deer.” Kellen closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath himself. His stomach turned uncomfortably at the image.
“I tracked them for three weeks through the Slags to a city called Norshag at the foothills of the Northern Heights. I spent days watching them, studying them—their movements, their habits, where they liked to eat, where they spent their evenings drinking, and their nights carousing. I knew them better than they knew themselves. And I used it against them.
“With the first one, I slipped a very painful toxin called hemporvine in his evening meal. It’s a slow and excruciatingly painful way to die. I sat with him in his room for hours, feigning to be a physicker of rare herbs, while wiping the sweat from his brow as the poison devoured his insides.
“The second man was the first’s younger brother. And he wasn’t exactly all there in the head if you know what I mean. I took mercy on him and slid my blade through the back of his neck while he slept.”
“The third man, though, I saved for last. He was a cruel sort of creature.
Every night he would visit the same whorehouse to claim the kind of attention he could never receive from any respectable woman. By the time his activities were finished, the poor girls were left bloody from vicious beatings.
“One of those nights, I managed to switch places with one of them. She thanked me profusely and left the room in a hurry.” Kellen was starting to worry where this was heading, and hoped for her sake, and his, she had not taken her role-playing to the extreme.
“I waited until he had stripped himself and was demanding my full attention before I gave it to him. I spread his arms and legs and restrained them to the bedposts. The pig thought it all quite exciting.” Sheeva’s smile was disturbing at best. “It wasn’t until I had him good and bound that I revealed to him who I was, and who my brother had been. The look on his face held somewhere between confusion and arousal. His teeth were bared and he actually growled at me.” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t think he realized what was about to happen, that is, until I raised my blade and made the first incision.
“I took my time with him. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard such colorful examples of language as what poured from his mouth when I started with a simple castration. After passing out a few times and being revived with a
bottle of hartshorn, his language went from something coherent to mere garbles, and spats, and screams. I worked my way up from there.” She leaned forward and let her elbows rest on the table in front of her. “I am
quite skilled with a knife, you know.” Her face had once again retaken the
emotionless state he was used to seeing. Kellen figured it must be a survival trait.
Kellen didn’t know if he should be impressed, or horrified.
“As you can imagine, because of my actions I was no longer allowed to return home. So now I do what I’ve found I’m good at—killing.” She looked back down at the table and studied the chipped edges. “How’s that for irony? I tracked down and killed the three men who murdered my brother, and then took their place.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Kellen wasn’t quite sure what to say. “If there is one lesson I have always tried to impart to my children,” he said, “it is this. With every choice there comes a consequence, and we have to be willing to live with the ones we make and, hopefully, learn from them.”
She regarded him with an unreadable stare. “I’ve never taken a mark that didn’t deserve it. I know that’s not a justification, but maybe more of a clarification as to what little honor I still have. When I realized my latest target was nothing more than a young girl with wielder abilities, who,
because of the way she was born, threatened a powerful man, I took her and ran.”
“Where is she now?”
“I left her in Master Veldon’s care. The kind of life I live doesn’t lend itself to children.”
“Then maybe it’s time to consider a change?”
Sheeva didn’t respond. She stared at him a moment and then glanced back down at the table, clearly not wanting to maintain eye contact any longer. She was hopefully contemplating what he had suggested. Whether she would take it to heart, though, was an entirely different matter.
“Well, Sheeva, it was nice talking with you.” He pushed his seat back and rose from the table. “I hope you plan on sticking around for a while.” He nodded and then turned and headed for the front doors. He could feel her eyes on his back as he crossed the room.
Once outside, with the doors shut firmly behind him, Kellen shook his head. “Well, that was . . . intense.”
“Ah, just the man I was looking for.”
Kellen turned around. His back stiffened at the sight of three men stepping out from around the other side of the Inn. Their white mantles rustled in the early afternoon breeze as they approached. Kellen crossed his arms, letting his hand slowly slide beneath the front flap of his overcoat.
His fingers slid around the handle of his largest blade as he waited.
“I’ve been told you’re the man I need to see concerning a forest guide.” Kellen released his grip on the concealed knife and withdrew his hand.
“I’m the overlord’s gamekeeper,” he said as the men stopped a few steps away. “The name’s Kellen.”
The large man at the front regarded Kellen with a scrutinizing gaze.
“Aye, you have the look of a hunter.” The Tower guard ran his hand down his dark goatee. “My name is Captain Hatch, and as I said, we’re in need of someone who knows their way around these woods. We’ve been instructed to search the city and surrounding countryside for wielders, or those harboring them. Do you have a horse?”
Kellen glanced to his left where Your Highness stood watching them with a strong air of indifference. “I do.”
“Good. Make yourself available this afternoon. Be at the barracks in an hour.”
Kellen held his emotions in check. “Yes, sir.” He offered a respectful
bow. “I would be more than happy to assist our Black Watch protectors with anything they need.”
Hatch studied Kellen’s face. The captain was clearly a cautious man. Satisfied by what he must have seen, Hatch turned and walked away. His subordinates flanked him as he went.
Kellen left Your Highness in front of the inn and quickly made his way across River Street. This might be the break they had been looking for. He needed to let the council know to be ready.
