Paul Kemp - Shadowbred

Vees ignored him and looked out on the worshipers. He moved to one candelabrum and blew out all but one of the candles, then did the same with the other. A deeper darkness settled on the chamber.

"Darkness has fallen and the Lady of Loss is with us," Vees said. "Give her now your bitterness. Lay your losses before her."

He waited while the worshipers confessed aloud the matters that had made them bitter, the things they had lost, the grudges they had developed since the last time the group had met the month before. The hubbub of voices made it impossible for Vees to distinguish sentences or speakers, but Vees knew the Lady heard them all and rejoiced.

When the worshipers completed the ritual and fell silent, Vees said, "The Lady is pleased by your offerings made in this, her new temple. The construction is nearly complete. We turn now to the sanctification of her altar, which requires blood."

The sacrifice writhed, pleaded. "No! No!"

Vees reached under his robes and withdrew the sacrificial dagger. He held it above the man.

The sacrifice fought against his bonds. His breath came so quickly he would soon lose consciousness. Vees could see every tendon in his body, every muscle.

"Your despair is sweet to the Lady," Vees said, and raised the blade for a killing strike.

The sacrifice stared wide-eyed at the blade's point and screamed.

1 Uktar, the Year of Lightning Storms

Cale awoke in his chamber before dawn. He had not dreamed of Magadon since arriving in Selgaunt and did not know what to make of it. Mask's words haunted him: Magadon will suffer in the meanwhile.

Cale dressed and met Tamlin a bit after dawn in the main hall. They exchanged pleasantries and walked side by side across the grounds to the stables. Tamlin wore his father's ermine-trimmed traveling cloak with a rapier, but no armor or shield. Cale recalled that armor interfered with Tamlin's ability to cast spells. A satchel with two thick, leather-bound tomes hung over his shoulder.

Books on spellcraft, Cale assumed with some surprise, since he had never known Tamlin to favor reading. Tamlin had become a moderately accomplished sorcerer over the years. If only his leadership and talent for statesmanship had matured as much as his magical ability.

"Your mount will regret your choice of reading material, my lord," said Cale.

Tamlin smiled tightly. "Just something of interest to me."

For his part, Cale wore his enchanted leather armor, his daggers, and Weaveshear. Pouches at his belt held his lockpicking kit and his coin purse. His pack held his bedroll, rope, and the magical tome he had taken from the Fane of Shadows. He carried the Shadowlord's mask in his pocket.

"I received word late last night that Mother and Tazi arrived safely at Storl Oak," Tamlin said. "I understand that was your suggestion?"

Cale nodded. "Were they escorted, my lord?"

"Of course," Tamlin snapped, an edge in his voice. "I am not a fool, Mister Cale, despite your suggestion to the contrary. Eight members of the house guard rode with them, including Captain Orrin. Five more men plus Talbot await them at Storl Oak."

Cale nodded and said nothing more. They walked the rest of the way to the stables in silence.

The grooms had saddled twelve geldings, all of them stout steeds thirteen hands or more in height. Three pack horses loaded with gear stood with their heads lowered. Ren and nine other members of the Uskevren house guard were loading equipment onto their geldings. All wore chain shirts, helmets, and serious looks. Each bore a blade, a crossbow, and a shield enameled with the Uskevren crest. Their livery, too, featured the Uskevren horse at anchor. They spoke congenially to their mounts as they checked tack, harness, stirrup, and saddle.

"My lord," all of them nodded to Tamlin in greeting. "Mister Cale."

"Men," Tamlin answered.

Ren nodded a greeting at Cale as he stuffed a bedroll into his saddlebag.

The head groom, a tall, thin man with tanned arms and dark hair, moved from man to man, fretting. "I assure you that all is in order with the tack." His annoyed tone made clear that he took extreme pride in his meticulous work, and that the house guards' efforts came as a personal affront.

The men smiled, nodded, and ignored him, adjusting straps and buckles as they saw fit.

A boy held Cale's and Tamlin's mounts by their bits. Cale eyed the horses with apprehension. He had never been a skilled horseman, and riding with only one hand would make it worse. Tamlin noticed his nervousness and smiled smugly.

"Vos is an easy ride, Mister Cale," said the groomsman.

"Very easy, goodsir," said the scrawny boy in an overlarge shirt who held the horse.

"Vos," Cale said, and chuckled. Vos was a word from the Dwarvish tongue. It meant "wild" or "unruly," and was usually used to describe a dwarven beer fest. Probably the groom had no idea of its etymology.

"You will be keeping to the roads the whole time," the groom said. "An easy ride."

Cale found small comfort in the fact, but mounted up without embarrassing himself.

Tamlin loaded his gear into his mount's saddlebags and fairly leaped atop his horse. Unlike Cale, Tamlin was an experienced rider. "Ordulin is seven days' ride," he called to the group. "Let's get started. Is all ready, Ren?"

Ren looked to his men, who nodded."All's ready, my lord."

The house guards mounted up and took station around Cale and Tamlin. Cale smiled at his awkwardness in the saddle. He had climbed eight-story buildings barehanded, but felt uncomfortable perched atop the horse. He did his best to settle in as the group started out.

When they reached Rauncel's Ride, Cale immediately noticed fewer Helms on the street. Before he could ask, Tamlin said, "I reconsidered my course, Mister Cale. At least on the matter of the Helms. A few squads remain in the Noble District, but I stationed the rest at the city gates. They will no longer patrol the streets, but they will be available to Vees and the Old Chauncel should they be needed."

Cale looked Tamlin in the face. "Wisely done, my lord."

Tamlin nodded grudgingly. "The temples responded to my suggestion as you suspected they would. I understand that they are already distributing food-all of them. Temple Avenue is thronged more than during a Shieldmeet festival. The city will still have a hunger problem, but it will not be a crisis, at least not in the short term."

Cale heard both appreciation and resentment in Tamlin's tone and resolved to hold his tongue. He hoped the measures stabilized the city until Tamlin's return. He did not trust Vees and the Old Chauncel to keep good order. In fact, he did not trust Vees Talendar at all.

Groups of Selgauntans gathered to watch them pass. The house guard kept them at a distance from Cale and Tamlin. None showed any anger toward Tamlin-Cale deemed that a good sign-and a few even shouted encouragement. Tamlin must have sent a herald to announce his departure.

"Two tendays ago, they cursed my name and spat on the ground as I passed," Tamlin said to Cale. He shook his head. "The people are fickle."

Cale made no comment and they rode in silence toward the Klaroun Gate. Scepters saluted as they passed. The Helms stationed at the gate did the same. As they climbed the far side of High Bridge, looking down at the glittering, boat-dotted waters of the Elzimmer and Selgaunt Bay, Cale finally asked the question that was eating at him. "How did Vees Talendar come to gain your confidence, my lord?"

Tamlin's mouth tightened and Cale knew he should not have asked. "Vees Talendar has been an asset to me and the city for over a year, Mister Cale. As for anything more, I am not inclined to share it." He looked Cale in the face and said, "The how and the why do not matter."