Prologue
Thirteen months after Martel is killed by Sparhawk in Azash's temple...
The unpaved road off the main highway twisted through a thick growth of trees and shrubs. It was a rough path, overgrown with low reaching branches and the roots of the old trees, which rose up from the soft earth.
Krager fumbled with his flagon and drained the last drops of wine. He belched loudly, then laughed as a bird took off in fright, scaring him in turn. His mount flicked her ears in disgust. Tossing her head at this misfortune, she continued to bear the drunkard through the woods.
Krager had promised to carry himself to this meeting sober. It was a promise he recalled making a long time ago through the hazy vapors of his current intoxication. Even as he uttered the promise, his fingers had been twisting at the cork of a wine bottle and laughing with bravado. Since leaving the seedy tavern in Demos, Krager had been working his way through saddlebags stuffed with Arcium red.
The estate that was his goal came into view behind a stand of elm trees. The gates were open, and the dirt road turned to a graceful, circular driveway laid with cobblestones. On either side of the driveway, the grass was neatly trimmed and the expanse of lawn stretched out before the house. The road led to the doors of the great house, a massive structure of finely cut grey stone that had not been built for defence but for intimidation. Krager blinked and wondered why such a well manicured estate was hidden by overgrowth of elms and birch trees.
Despite the warmth of the day, Krager shuddered and pulled his cloak tighter to his body. His horse passed the gates and trotted lightly up the pathway. The clatter of her metal shoes against the stones echoed off the high grey stone façade of the home.
He tugged sharply at the reins and the horse came to sudden stop, nickering against the forceful command. Drunkenly, Krager stumbled out of the saddle.
Desperately Krager clung to his horse as the world pitched off balance without warning. His head went spinning as things turned violently around him. Slowly it all stopped and things settled back into their proper place. While attempting to find some form of composure, Krager was considering slinking away and abandoning the job all together, when a deep baritone thundered behind him.
"What are you doing here?"
Krager looked up as the front door swung open. A familiar face appeared, a man of his own age with a towering frame. The doors had been thrown open with such force they bounced against the far wall and came wobbling back into place. The man who emerged from them reached casually out and stopped them.
"Baurduna!" Krager called with a grin. He let go of the horse and staggered forward.
As Baurduna strode forward, Krager reached out, expecting support from the towering giant, who instead grabbed him roughly by the shirt front. Krager felt terror blossom and his head snapped back.
"You've been told never to come here," Baurduna growled. "This isn't your – "
Upset by the unpleasant scare and shaken by Baurduna's rough handling, Krager opened his mouth.
Instead of the protest Krager planned, he vomited.
Disgusted, Baurduna shoved Krager away, who tripped on a loose stone and fell to his knees.Krager reached out blindly. His stomach continued to contract, painfully bringing up everything until he could only dry heave. Exhausted by the effort, Krager sank onto his ankles then toppled to his side and gave into unconsciousness.
There was sweet nothing and then there was a painful coldness, which seemed to swallow him whole. Krager jerked back to consciousness, spluttering as he tried to breathe and his lungs met water. Before panic could settle in, the water was gone and Krager was gasping for air. He became aware of the hand at the back of his neck and reached up for it.
"Do you need another dunking?" Baurduna asked, bending at the knees to address Krager.
His lungs desperate for air, Krager could only give a slight shake of his head. Baurduna released his neck and Krager looked frantically around to get his bearings. Krager, looking to his left, saw that his horse had been tethered to a wooden beam. The mare had been provided with a meal and was happily munching on hay. The drunkard realized that while unconscious Baurduna had dragged him behind the house to the stables.
Crawling up from his knees, using the large water trough for leverage, Krager blinked the water from his eyes. He gulped and sucked the air in great mouthfuls. Baurduna shoved a rough cloth in Krager's face. "Take it easy, you'll just pass out again if you keep doing that."
Baurduna released him and Krager mopped at the water, which ran from his face in rivulets. He was wet down to the waist and the large trough was nearly empty. Tethered nearby, his horse was happily contented with a scattering of hay.
"Now that you are awake, get your horse and get out of here," Baurduna added, stepping over Krager unceremoniously and heading back to the house.
"Martel's dead," Krager said quickly, panting for air between each syllable. He looked over his shoulder and saw Baurduna stop so suddenly the big man struggled for balance. There was an uncomfortable silence in the yard and Krager waited nervously.
"Lissohen, help him inside," Baurduna said finally. He shook his head and continued for the house. "God forgive me, Krager, for what I'm about to do."
A young man rushed to Krager's side and began to help him. Gratefully, Krager let Lissohen support him. Lissohen, who was still tender in age, had developed none of the cruelty that lay in Baurduna's touch. Weakly, Krager leaned against Lissohen and they followed Baurduna into the kitchens.
There was a rough stool near the large hearth, Baurduna pointed to it and Lissohen deposited Krager there. He shivered in the embrace of the large fire and then relaxed slowly into it.
"Stay with him, watch him, and don't let anywhere near the ale barrel," Baurduna said, making no attempt to keep his voice quiet. Lissohen had no chance to respond, as Baurduna disappeared from the kitchen.
Krager had no interest in conversation; the cold had been replaced by the thudding headache of his hangover. His stomach was sour and hollow and all Krager could think of was a soft bed in some quiet place, with a barrel of Arcein red waiting for him after a day or two of sleep.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed and Lissohen never spoke a word to him. The boy fidgeted nervously near the door the entire time. Krager was certain that he could fall into a pleasant slumber where he sat. The heavy footfalls of Baurduna's return stopped Krager from giving into that.
"Children," Baurduna said, coming into the kitchen. The gentleness of Baurduna's tone made Krager sit up and open his eyes. Baurduna escorted two children into the kitchen, his arms about their slender shoulders. Krager, who had never seen the twins before, looked at them unable to hide his shock. "This man works for your father, and he has something to tell you."
Krager stared at the children then looked up to Baurduna, who glared at him above the heads of his charges. He was struggling for the words, and hating Baurduna, when the twins stepped away from him, clutching the others hands and coming closer to him.
"Martel is dead," Krager said, choking slightly on the words. "Your, your father that is, he passed away."
The girl broke into tears immediately, bending her head and letting her hair fall into her face, hiding her grief from view. The boy, standing at the same height as his sister, released her hand and put one arm bravely about her shoulders. He met Krager's eye with an expression that was painfully familiar in its arrogance.
"How?" the boy demanded. "Where?"
Krager swallowed, shaking his head slightly as though he did not understand the statement. Impatient, the boy stamped his foot and raising his voice, made the demand again.
What struck Krager so sharply, making him dumb in the face of the adolescents' fears, was the children's hair. The twins wore their hair free; the boys shoulder length and the girls dropping to her waist. It wasn't the length of the hair that disturbed Krager so much as the color of it. Like Martel, both children's hair was the color of first snow.
In a dry voice, Krager gave the boy his answer, "Zemoch. The capital, there was a battle, and he – was killed."
Baurduna had come to the children, and the girl fell into his arms with a soft cry. The boy lifted his chin and looked at Krager with as much ferocity as thirteen years could manage. Karger wanted to look away from the boy; there was something sad he thought, about how brave the young man tried to appear.Baurduna reached for the boy, who yanked himself away and stormed from the kitchen. Through the open door Krager watched as the boy break into a run in the yard and disappear into the orchard.
"Get out," Baurduna said, looking over the girls shoulder. "And don't come back, Krager. We have no more business together."
Krager blinked, feeling numb, and was only distantly aware of standing and moving towards the door. He glanced back once and then left the house, taking his horse from her hay and mounted, then urged her into a run and left the estate quickly.