"I will kill the man myself!" Valdemar felt his jaw tremble. "I will raise him upon a stake and drink of his flowing blood. Send me into Kaerleon, and I will return with his heart in my fist."
The creature sighed. "You speak with the rashness of foolhardy youth. The Sects will be swarming in the area to control the situation. For now, our operation must remain invisible, our operatives nonexistent. But in the name of the High Lady Masiki, you will stand in the heart of Kaerleon when the time comes. You will sit upon the throne of the High King and rule the entire kingdom as your blood entitles you. This I swear. Patience. Soon you and your men will have all the battle your hearts could desire. Soon the world will tremble at the son of Basilis."
The darkness in the room dissipated. Valdemar hardly noticed. He ignored the return of Delilah, who curled up beside his feet, and Mara as she returned with a cool chalice of wine. After a moment she placed it on the stand beside him and left him to his murderous thoughts.
Interlude: Tyald
Tyald was the first of the patrolmen to spot the lone rider. He whistled to alert Gertoth, Lisam, and Perves, who pulled rein and signaled to Captain Drild. They followed as Drild wheeled his mount around and rode toward the rider.
Most men would have been cowed by a confrontation with the patrolmen of Leodia, yet the stranger seemed completely at ease as they encircled him with their lances. His features were shadowed by his hooded cloak and the sun's absence. Lanterns hung from staffs lashed to the patrolmen's saddles, but the light almost seemed to avoid the stranger.
The horses shied and whickered, exhaling clouds of vapor. Tyald looked at Drild. The patrol captain certainly showed no signs of nervousness. He touched the Lance emblem that decorated the left of his cuirass and pulled in closer.
"Identify yourself, stranger. And state your business alone in the night."
"Surely you can see it is morning, and a fine one at that." The rider spoke in a soft voice from the depths of his hood. He gestured to the dim glow of the eastern horizon. "Is there a problem?"
"There have been rumors of riders at night causing havoc and murder." Drild's lance leveled directly at the rider's chest. "I will not ask you again. Identify yourself."
The man calmly pulled his hood down. His face was pale, his features almost boyish despite the mane of white hair that fell past his shoulders. Yet there was an undeniable menace in his blue-eyed gaze, a cruel twist to his mouth that denied any assumption of mildness. His dark cloak blew back to reveal black, snug-fitting scale armor.
The patrolmen tightened their grips on their lances and moved closer until a circle of pointed tips imprisoned him.
The rider seemed amused. "My name has long been forgotten by those who should have remembered it. You may call me Yanus. I hunt this dark rider that has caused your people to huddle like frightened lambs. When I find him, you shall fear no more, for he will die by my hands." His eyes glinted in the dim light. "Just as you shall, if you impede me any further."
There was a razor edge to his voice that caused the men to instinctively draw back despite themselves. All Except for Drild, who remained unfazed.
"You dare to threaten the patrolmen of Leodia, bounty hunter? To threaten the Guard is to threaten the king, and to threaten the king is treason. Rethink your words, and you might ride away without protest. Disrespect the king again, and you'll enjoy your fine morning languishing in the stocks."
Yanus' grin was twisted. "Your king was a mad fool who was slaughtered like a pig. Why should I care what words I use to describe him or you?"
Drild's face contorted. "Blasphemer! You will—"
His head flew off his shoulders before he could finish the sentence. The patrolmen recoiled as his blood spattered over them. Yanus' sword was in his hand, yet Tyald had never seen him draw it. He stared in numbed shock. He's dead. Drild is dead…
Drild's body slumped from the saddle as his horse reared in terror. His lance toppled from his hand.
Yanus' laughter was a mad howl as his sword flashed, shattering the circle of lances as though they were rotted wood. Tyald fought to control his mount and his rising terror. His companions fared no better. Yanus' sword was a flickering blur. It hummed as it cut Gertoth in half. Blood and entrails steamed when they struck the frosty ground.
Tyald fled with the others. Their horses galloped as though their senses were struck by the same dread the men felt. A whirring sound followed them. Perves shrieked as he was struck by the flung sword with such force that he was torn from the saddle and impaled to a nearby tree. Lisam was next, screaming when his lantern exploded and engulfed him as though he had bathed in oil.
Tyald continued in horrified flight, pursued by his comrades' dying screams. He risked a look behind but saw nothing but empty road. Sobs racked his chest as he spurred his horse faster.
He gasped as a blur of movement caught his eye. What he saw was impossible. Yanus raced alongside on foot, matching the horse's strides with ease. He streaked through the trees, eyes aglow against the shadows that brushed his face. With a snarl more savage than any beast, he leaped with arms outstretched.
The impact bowled Tyald from the saddle as they toppled in a bone-jarring explosion of snow and muddy earth. Pain exploded in his legs when his screaming horse rolled atop them.
He fought back the dizziness and tried to ignore the maniacal laughter and wet sounds from behind as he was consumed by terror so powerful it nearly overwhelmed him. He dragged his ruined legs s across the frozen ground; teeth gritted with the pain of every agonizing shuffle.
When the shadow fell across him, he howled as though he were already dying.
"Look at me."
It was not the voice he had heard earlier. Though every nerve in his body told him otherwise, he turned to the crimson-spattered figure.
The face — that face! Tyald's voice rattled and died in his throat. His heart pumped ice water as he froze before the monstrosity.
"You fear me, human?" Yanus' sneer made him even more hideous. His voice was guttural, as though spoken through a mouth full of gravel. "A wise man. For I know so many sweet ways to make you suffer…and you shall enjoy them all." He reached for Tyald with an elongated, misshapen hand.
Tyald's screams mingled with the creature's laughter as the rising sun painted the sky crimson.
Chapter 38: Rhanu
Rhanu was troubled as he looked at the corpses. "The odji that did this was a powerful one."
Han looked up from one of the dead patrolmen. "Very bold to take on an entire group of armed men. What makes you think one kuang-shi did all of this?"
Rhanu wrinkled his nose. "Can you not smell it? The stench assaults my nostrils."
"All I smell is death. I told you, I am not the beast you are."
"I can always catch the scent of an odji." Rhanu inhaled deeply and frowned. "But this one…this one is different somehow. The scent is unlike any I've encountered. Almost as if it were not an odji at all."