A/N: Enter our villain! I've edited the past four chapters a bit, to make it flow a little better. Thanks for the suggestions, sheerWonder!

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Really. Okay, so the necromancer is sort of mine, but Nix came up with all the cool necromantic details anyway.

Chapter 5: Caim

Terciel pulled his sword from the last Dead Hand, and put away Kibeth. He was tired, but he knew that he had one more adversary yet to face. Abhorsen's nose wrinkled at the stench of Free Magic, and all too soon a man stepped out from the shadows between the trees.

The stranger was dressed in a richly-embroidered tunic and breeches, fashionable boots and gloves of doeskin, and a fur-trimmed cape. His rather handsome face was pale as a corpse's, and his eyes were like pebbles. The necromancer executed an elaborate old-fashioned bow, sweeping a plumed velvet cap from his head. "A pleasure, and an honour, Lord Abhorsen," he said smoothly.

Terciel inclined his head minutely. He would play along with this necromancer's games, if only to give Sabrine enough time to escape. "And who might you be?" he asked coolly.

Another graceful bow. "Caim at your service, one-time Duke of the Old Kingdom. You might find me mentioned in the history annals as a companion of Kerrigor, when he was still a man. They flatter me. I would hardly call myself his companion… "lackey" would be the more appropriate term."

"Kerrigor has been in Death for nearly two hundred years," Abhorsen answered, keeping his sword at the ready. "I myself chained him beyond the Seventh Gate."

The necromancer winked impishly. "Ah, but Death is no obstacle for you and I, is that not so? I managed to locate Kerrigor, and while he could not persuade me to set him free – I know the price of such a transaction – I agreed to help his cause once more. Who knows? Perhaps he will find some other poor soul foolish enough to give his life. I remain, however, Kerrigor's faithful servant."

Abhorsen cast about for a new subject. "How did your Gore Crows get past my House's defences?" he asked finally.

Caim smiled broadly, showing his pearly teeth. "Ah, now that was a stroke of genius," he said with relish. "I used spirits of the Clayr for my flocks. Your House is not defended against any of the Bloodlines. With the Free Magic of the crows' flesh, it was a bit of a gamble. But it paid off. I'm surprised that nobody thought of it before. My master will be most pleased with my ingenuity when he hears of this."

Terciel snorted derisively. "And what do you get from this relationship?" he asked.

The necromancer gave an eloquent shrug. "Nothing now, Lord Abhorsen. But when he returns – and return, he will – I shall be rewarded with power beyond any mortal's dreams. But in order to claim my reward, I must do his bidding."

"Which is?"

Caim grinned, white lips writhing back from his teeth. "Why, to kill you, and your pitiful unborn heir." The necromancer rushed in, corrupted blade held high, and Terciel brought his sword up to meet him.

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Sabrine stumbled through the trees, the hem of her dress catching on brambles. The sun was setting, and it was getting harder to see in the long shadows and dim light. Another contraction caused her to pause and bend over, gasping for breath.

When it had passed she looked up, blinked, and scrubbed at her eyes. There in the distance was the unmistakeable wavering light of a campfire. Sabrine smiled, and broke out into a staggering run.

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Abhorsen parried another blow from Caim, whose black blade steamed slightly in the cold air. Although the necromancer did not look very impressive, his skill with a sword was amazing. It was all Terciel could do to block and parry the clever strikes, unable to launch an attack of his own. He was forced back several steps as Caim rained blows upon him from all directions. With an almost careless flick, the necromancer disarmed his opponent.

In desperation, Terciel shouted a Charter mark, which shot blazing into Caim's eyes. As the necromancer scrabbled at his face, Terciel lunged for his sword and swiped, severing Caim's leg at the knee. The necromancer screamed as he fell, black blood spurting from the stump, and Terciel drove his sword two-handed through Caim's chest.

He felt the necromancer die, and cleaned his sword before sheathing it. Terciel leaned up against a tree, completely exhausted, and closed his eyes.

His Death sense twinged, and the Abhorsen's head shot up in horrified realization: a spark had dimmed and gone out. He had sensed Sabrine's death.

Terciel pulled up the hood of his cloak and broke into a run.

Dark clouds rumbled above him, and a steady rain began to fall.

A/N: Poor Terciel! We know what he will find. One more chapter, folks. Reviews are lovely.