The Crow King's Wife(108)

“You should have stayed in the alley.” Caleb observed sourly as he slapped the guard again and drew him to his feet. “Wake up or I will slit your throat and find another messenger.” Caleb growled as the guard’s eyes flickered feebly. The man tried to rally at Caleb’s words and his eyes fluttered open several more times before he managed to keep them open. “Good.” Caleb nodded with approval as he shoved the man against a wall. “In about two minutes I’m going to shove you out of that door.” Caleb informed him as he pointed casually toward the only exit the store offered as far as Shade could tell. “You are going to inform everyone outside that if they move toward this building I will kill your Lord’s son. If they set fire to the building, I will kill your lord’s son. If they stare too long at the building, well you get the picture. Once you have ensured everyone outside is going to behave you are going to run your little ass off to reach your lord before I get annoyed with waiting on you. You will tell him the Bloody Huntsman has come and has his son. You will inform him that if he wants his child back alive he will bring me my daughter alive and well. Are we clear?”

The guard’s face paled drastically at the words Bloody Huntsman, but to the man’s credit he managed a firm nod as Caleb released his grip on the man’s tunic. “Lord Derrick will bring the entire damn city down on your head, fool.” The guard muttered with a disgusted shake of his head. “Might bring your girl to you, but only long enough for her to watch you die.”

Shade expected Caleb to kill the man for his words, but to his amazement Caleb simply smiled and nodded. “No doubt he will try that. My daughter’s name is Syrah. Lord Derrick should know her by sight. Now be a good little bitch and to your master with my words.” With a sharp nod toward the door he took another step back from the guard and glanced toward the boy who was still sobbing quietly over his mother’s body.

“What makes you think he won’t just go straight to the guard’s barracks and summon the entire city guard here?” Shade asked softly.

“Derrick will want to deal with me personally. He isn’t fond of me at all.” Caleb said with a sigh. With a quick glance out the window he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Pain lit his face for a breath as he slowly opened his eyes and stared down at the black sword gripped tightly in his right hand. “Once I have Syrah.” Caleb whispered as he slowly pried his fingers free of his sword with his left hand. The blade clattered to the floor at his feet and Caleb took a ragged breath as he massaged his hand and glared at the sword.

Shade’s eyes moved from the sword to Caleb and then settled once more on the sword. “It’s sentient?” he asked softly. The only sentient weapons he had ever heard of were in stories that seemed too fanciful to believe, but he couldn’t explain Caleb’s behavior any other way.

Caleb nodded once and folded his arms across his chest without bothering to retrieve his sword from the floor. “Ryvenken the Keeper.” He whispered with a trace of hatred edging his words.

“The Blade of Secrets?” Shade gasped in disbelief. The sword was only mentioned in the oldest of stories, but he remembered each reference clearly. Ryvenken supposedly fed on souls and knowledge. It was written that for every warrior that had wielded the blade Ryvenken held a thousand secrets. It was also said that anyone who bonded with the blade could draw on those secrets and use whatever skills or magic it held.

“None other.” Caleb agreed in a dull voice. He glanced out the window again and then looked to the boy. For just a moment a flicker of remorse crossed his features then he was looking out the window once more.

“How long have you been bonded with it?” Shade asked quietly. Everything was falling into place now; If Caleb had been bonded with Ryvenken for years than the sword likely had a very firm hold on his mind. Artifacts as old as that sword were dangerous and it took a very strong mage to maintain control over such things. Caleb had said himself that he wasn’t strong in arcane power. The cold murder he had witnessed earlier as well as the Blight’s fear of Caleb could be explained away easily if the sword were the dominate of the two. Sentient weapons were not renowned in stories for their honor or compassion.

“Four years aside from my stay in the Blight prison. Ryvenken and I were sadly not on speaking terms at that point. I wanted to save Arovan, Ryvenken wanted it to burn.” Caleb said calmly and shrugged once. He smiled faintly and turned away from the window. “Return Syrah to Jala or Valor. They will see that she is taken to my family in Arovan.” The words held an undeniable farewell to them, but there was no trace of concern in his voice. Caleb fully planned to face the entire military force of Prendington alone and didn’t even have a bead of sweat on his face at the thought.