Crypt of the Shadowking (29 page)

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Authors: Mark Anthony

BOOK: Crypt of the Shadowking
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The boy shrugged. “Most people don’t. I think she keeps me a secret.”

Fascinated, Caledan knelt by the boy’s chair. “Why does she keep you a secret?” he asked, his voice gentle.

The boy smiled, yet it was a melancholy expression, making his face seem wise beyond his years. “You don’t know my mother terribly well, do you? Everything is a secret to her.”

Caledan shook his head. There was something peculiar about this boy, but something compelling as well. He could only guess how terrible it must be to grow up under Ravendas’s care.

The boy’s eyes shone. “She’ll break me when she’s done with me, you know. That’s what she does with everybody, once she’s used them. She’ll break you, too, as soon as you finish whatever it is she wants you to do. I’ve seen her do it to others.”

Caledan shuddered. “It doesn’t have to be that way, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to do what she wishes. She can’t break you, not if you’re strong.”

For a brief moment a light glimmered in the boy’s eyes like a flicker of hope. Then it vanished. “I used to dream of things like that,” he said abjectly. “I don’t dream anymore.”

Before Caledan could say anything more, he heard the lock of the door turning. Quickly he stepped away from the boy. The chamber door opened, and Ravendas steppe” through. Caledan felt a hot wave of hatred rush through his body but forced himself to stand firm.

She was dressed in a gown of crimson and gold, hues accented by her red lips and shimmering hair. She was isitely beautiful, like a too-perfect rose which, upon closer inspection, reveals a rotting, loathsome center within its petals.

Ravendas stepped blithely into the room. “I see you received my summons, Captain Breldurn,” she purred in a voice as thick and cloying as honey. “You may greet me,” she said imperiously.

Though he was unsure what the proper greeting was, Caledan dared not hesitate. He strode to her and knelt as she presented her hand. He bent his head over her proffered hand and raised his visor just enough for a kiss. He hesitated a scant second. This is the hand that strangled Kera, he thought. He clenched his jaw, swallowing bile. He pressed his lips against the smooth skin of her hand. He stood then, letting the visor fall back into place.

She smiled, displaying her perfect white teeth. “You’re a bashful one, Captain Breldurn,” she crooned. “I find that charming in a man. But then, innocence can grow tiresome after a time. We shall cure you of this soon enough.”

She glanced toward the chair where the boy sat, silently watching. “Leave us, Kellen,” she said coldly. “Find Snake and practice your music for him.”

“Yes, Mother,” the boy said. He picked up his lute and walked to a side door, turning the knob with a small hand. He cast one backward glance at Caledan, then stepped through the portal. Caledan made a silent oath to himself then. If it was at all possible, he was going to rescue that child from Ravendas.

“Come with me, my shy soldier,” Ravendas said with a sultry laugh. She took his hand and led him to a divan covered with snowy white furs. She sat down, the crimson silk of her dress spilling bloodlike over the white fur. She leaned forward to fill two crystal glasses with ruby-colored wine from a decanter resting on a black lacquered table.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to cease for Caledan. He realized this was the moment he had been wailing for the last seven years. This was the perfect chance to exact h’ vengeance upon Ravendas. As she leaned forward her graceful neck was extended like a swan’s, and the large vein that ran in her throat stood out clearly against her pa]e skin. The guards at the door had taken his sword, but the boots he wore were still his own. Inside the right boot was a small throwing knife. In less than the time required to take a single breath, he could produce the knife and slit Ravendas’s throat.

He knew there would be little chance of escaping. Even if Ravendas died without a sound—something he could not count on—there was no way to slip by the guards outside the door. They would know something was awry, and his life would be forfeit.

But did that matter? All he had lived for these last seven years was revenge against Ravendas. Once he had revenge, his life would mean nothing to him. His hand inched its way down his leg, toward the hidden knife. You will be avenged, Kera, he vowed to himself for the final time. His fingers brushed the hilt of the knife.

Suddenly his hand froze.

After a moment he sighed, his hand dropping away from the concealed knife. Ravendas turned and handed him a goblet of the deep red wine. The moment for vengeance had passed.

Why didn’t you kill her? a part of his mind screamed at him, but he pushed the question aside. He knew the answer.

Ravendas’s death was exactly what Snake wanted.

He forced himself to remember that Snake was the greater danger now, not Ravendas. Perhaps he should use this opportunity to warn her. If anyone had the power to defeat Snake, it was she. At least he had to try.

Forgive me, Kera, he whispered inwardly.

“Come, Breldurn, speak a toast to me,” Ravendas said in a lilting voice, lifting her glass.

I can’t believe I’m going to do this, Caledan snarled to himself. This must be the Harper’s bad influence on me.

“To you, Ravendas,” he said as he lifted his goblet, the words dripping like poison from his tongue.

He flipped up his visor.

Shock flickered in her azure gaze for only a second. Then a dangerous smile coiled about her red lips.

“It has been some time, Caledan Caldorien,” she said, her voice as cold as steel. Swiftly, before he could react, she snaked out a hand and reached deftly inside his right boot. She drew out the small knife concealed there.

“Right where you always kept it,” she said with a smile that would have been enchanting had it not been so devoid of warmth. “If nothing else, you were always predictable, Caledan.”

“Do you mean to say you were expecting me, Ravendas?” He made no effort to hide the revulsion in his voice. He pulled off the hot, uncomfortable helm.

She stood and moved to the window, gazing out for a long moment. She sipped her wine delicately. “No, but I should have known my lord steward would fail once again in his efforts to capture you.” She moved to a chair opposite him and sat, arranging her gown precisely.

“So who was this ‘Captain Breldurn’?” Caledan asked casually, emphasizing the past tense. The meaning was not lost on Ravendas. “How did he compare with Maderon?” Caledan allowed himself a vicious smile. Maderon was the nobleman who had intended to murder Cormik years ago. He had also been Ravendas’s lover. “You know, I never would have taken Maderon for a screamer. You should nave heard the way he begged for mercy on the end of my sword before he died. Shameful.”

Caledan saw the briefest ripple of annoyance flicker across Ravendas’s placid visage. He had struck home with that one.

“Ah, yes. Maderon,” Ravendas said frostily, recovering her perfect composure. “He was an entertaining toy. Pretty but stupid. I was growing weary of him, however. I should thank you for disposing of him.”

“My pleasure.”

“Did you enjoy your little journey to the Fields of the Dead?” Ravendas asked, quickly changing the subject. “I trust you weren’t disappointed when you arrived at the valley near Asher. There must be ten thousand barrows there. You’re a clever man. I’m sure you realized that finding Talembar’s tomb is an impossibility.”

“Did you journey there yourself?”

“Of course,” she replied calmly. “I’ve been far ahead of you from the beginning, Caledan. Don’t you see? It is pointless to struggle against me.” Her expression darkened. “You know,” she went on, “stealing my jewels from the countinghouse made me very… angry.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to apologize,” Caledan said, refilling his wine glass.

Ravendas regarded him for a long moment, absently fidgeting with the strand of pearls about her throat. “All right, Caledan, what is it you want ?” she demanded flatly.

“I’ve come to warn you, Ravendas,” Caledan said simply. “Your lord steward is planning to betray you. While I don’t know who he is, I do know that Snake serves another master, a powerful one.” He went on in a dire tone. “What Snake and his master are planning, I can’t really say, but I think it involves the Nightstone. At any rate, he’s gone to great lengths to kill everyone who possesses the shadow magic. You’re in grave danger, Ravendas. We all are. What are you going to do about it?”

She laughed, a sound utterly devoid of mirth.

“I would not have expected so feeble an attempt at deception from you, Caledan,” she purred. “Have the years been so hard that your wits have left you?”

Caledan felt anger flare inside him. “It’s the truth, Ravendas. You’re foolish if you don’t listen to me.”

She rose and paced smoothly before the fireplace, the crimson silk of her dress rustling against the marble floor. “Snake is my servant. I fear him no more than I would a lap-dog. Of course, he is not without cunning. That was why I elevated him to his present position. He has proven quite useful a number of times. But when I first met him he was little more than a common cutpurse. He is hardly capable of defeating me.” Her blue eyes flashed.

“You’re wrong,” Caledan said, standing. “Dead wrong. Do you know what a shadevar is?”

“A shadevar?” Ravendas repeated, a frown creasing her brow. “What, pray tell, is that?”

“An abomination,” Caledan growled. “A sightless monster that follows by scent, not by sight, and that can kill in a heartbeat. The shadevari were ancient creatures, maybe older than the world itself. Once they served the god Bhaal, but in the end even he was powerless to control the shadevari, and Azuth himself banished them. It would have taken a sorcerer of incredible power to summon a shadevar into the world again. And that’s exactly what Snake did.”

“If this shadevar was so powerful, why is it you’re not dead, Caledan?” Ravendas demanded.

“I managed to kill it with the help of a few others in the Fields of the Dead. But it was more by luck than anything else. Believe me, this thing was powerful enough to lay waste to an army.”

Ravendas sighed. “I’m growing weary of this talk, Caledan.

There’s nothing you can say that could make me fear Snake. You see, there’s really no time left for him to do anything that could interfere with my goal.” “What are you talking about?”

“I have found the crypt of the Shadowking,” Ravendas replied gloatingly. “In two days’ time I will be able to open the doorway into the tomb beneath the Tor. My sorcerers tell me that the dark of the moon is the most propitious time.” Caledan stared at her. “In just two days, the Nightstone will be mine, Caledan. Nothing—not you, not Snake, not the Zhentarim—can stand in my way then. With the power of the Nightstone, I will rule this city and a dozen others like it. I will not stop until all the Realms kneel before me.

“But I will need a prince consort to stand beside me and give me strength,” Ravendas added in her dulcet voice. Her gaze drifted over Caledan like a caress. “That could be you, Caledan. Would you stand beside me and rule the Realms with me? You have only to kneel and pledge your life to me as your queen.”

“You’re mad,” Caledan said simply, shaking his head. “Besides, what you really want is my shadow magic. I know that you need one with the shadow magic to take the Nightstone from its resting place.”

Ravendas laughed again. “You think you’re terribly clever, don’t you, Caledan? Then again, you always did. However, I’m afraid you’re wrong this time. Oh, once you would have been right. Years ago I did seek to win you over for your shadow magic. You see, I first learned of the Nightstone more than a decade ago. I was weaving my plans even then. You proved stubborn, however. Whatever you saw in that fawning sister of mine I cannot say, yet you chose to spurn my advances. In the meantime I have discovered another way in which I might gain control of someone blessed with the shadow magic, and he is mine even now.”

Caledan made a sudden intuitive leap. “The boy? Kellen?”

“Indeed,” Ravendas purred wickedly. “I think he inherited his coloring from me. But his hair, his eyes, and his shadow magic—all come from his father.”

Caledan felt a sudden numbing coldness grip his heart. He stared at Ravendas.

“Yes, Caledan,” she said with chilling calm. “Kellen is your son.”

Caledan’s gaze went to the door where the boy had disappeared. His gut instinct was to shout out in denial, but he remained silent. As unbelievable as it was, somehow he knew it was true. Even when he had spoken with Kellen he had felt drawn to the boy, as if there was some unspoken bond between them. He sank back on the fur-covered divan. “How old is he?” he asked finally.

“Eight. He’ll be nine soon.” Ravendas’s eyes shone. Caledan looked at her, but he could not ask the question that lay bitterly on his tongue.

“How?” Her voice was exultant “It was all very simple, really. It was that last time I met you and my insipid sister, Kera, in Berdusk. After you spurned my advances, I finally realized I was going to have to devise some other plan….” She smiled evilly. “Do you remember the night you spent with Kera at the Running Stag, that inn in Berdusk? You and Kera had separate rooms—she was always such an annoyingly proper young woman—but that night she wasn’t able to stay away from you. She stole into your room in the darkness and … well, the natural thing happened.”

Caledan watched Ravendas with a growing feeling of disgust. “How did you know that?” It was one of his most private memories. He and Kera had made love the entire night without ever speaking a word. It had been wonderful.

Ravendas’s eyes narrowed, like those of a cat about to Pounce. “It was not Kera in your arms that night, Caledan. It was I. I drugged Kera, donned her clothes, and slipped into your room. Earlier that night I had poured something into your ale to make you a bit more … pliable, shall we say? I left your bed before dawn, and nine moons later Kellen was born. And just like his father, he possesses a talent for music—and the shadow magic.”

Caledan gazed at her in horror. He could find no words.

“How like Kera, that she never did tell you,” Ravendas crooned.

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