The legend of Nightfall

Chapter 13

He feeds on elders and children,

On soldiers, kings, and beggarmen.

He never stops and never slows Darkness comes where Nightfall goes.

– "The Legend of Nightfall"

Nursery rhyme, st. 13

A multicolored wash of dancers frolicked through the muted lantern light of Noshtillan’s stage, their many and varied steps weaving into beautiful patterns of flash and movement. Prince Edward and Nightfall sat on one of the scattered benches, a crate just taller than knee-height supporting their drinks, its weathered wood still tainted by the mixture of spices it once held. It was not the best of the furniture in the performance room of Noshtillan’s dance hall. The central, more populous area contained some real tables and larger crates, but concern drove Nightfall to keep their backs against the wall and away from windows. He doubted the self-proclaimed Iceman would attack them in a crowd, even in a place where propriety and law deemed they remain unarmed; but paranoia would not allow him to drop his guard for a second.

Prince Edward and Nightfall had traveled as swiftly as the pack horse and the mud-caked mare could carry them, Nightfall surrendering the superior mount and his sword to his master. Ritworth had not bothered them on the journey, perhaps as shaken as his victim by the failed assassination. More likely, Nightfall suspected, the sorcerer was biding his time, waiting to catch his quarry in another indefensible position.

Nightfall had no intention of allowing himself to become vulnerable ever again. This excessive alertness had wrested sleep from him when they arrived in Noshtillan in the wee morning hours. Sheer exhaustion had eventually stolen consciousness from him, a dream-gorged slumber filled with chases, threats, and embarrassments. Even then, every sound had jarred him awake, and he harbored vague recollections of some dank corner of his mind processing and dismissing each normal city noise. He had sneaked his daggers, well-hidden, into the dance hall, preferring to risk arrest over being cornered without defenses.

Nightfall had mentioned the dance hall in the hope of discovering whether or not Kelryn still lived and, if so, where she had gone. He had not expected Edward to jump so enthusiastically on the idea, his verbalized intention to find an activity to soothe both of their jitters. The attention Edward lavished on the show revealed another motive, unconscious or just unspoken. Edward’s manners made him appear older and his innocence far younger. Yet, when it came to women, he seemed every bit the eighteen-year-old male he was.

Nightfall remained still, hiding nervousness behind a casual aloofness broken only by an unconscious fondling of the glass swan through the folds of his pocket. Though irrational, he could not wholly suppress a superstitious belief that its presence might draw the woman who had previously owned it. Once a token of his love, it had become a symbol of his hatred and need for vengeance.

The current show ended, and male and female dancers exited the stage. Prince Edward sipped his beer. "Wonderful, wasn’t it?"

Nightfall could not recall the last time his master had remained quietly awake so long. "Yes, wonderful.” He watched as the serving girls rearranged the stage lanterns, bunching them toward the center. Experience told him the more erotic dancing would start now, progressing from suggestive to pornographic by evening’s end. He smiled, suspecting Edward would now see a display unfamiliar to him, one he would likely enjoy if he did not become too flustered to watch. He savored the opportunity to see his sometimes tyrannical master transformed into a squirming teen. Nightfall vowed to observe closely for more reason than entertainment. If anyone would know of Kelryn’s whereabouts, these girls would prove the best informants.

The music began, a sultry and original song performed by a three-man band at the far side of the stage. Four girls clad in silky dresses slunk onto the stage from the sidelines, their movements sinuous. Prince Edward stared, the beer in his hand forgotten, his gaze leaping from one to the next in a dazzled circle. Nightfall froze, his eyes riveted on only one, the last to enter. He recognized the body first, outlined in perfect detail against the shimmering, clinging fabric. He knew every muscle and curve too well not to recognize Kelryn. The short white locks and plain features only clinched her identity. Kelryn. Nightfall might have remained stuck in Charseusan blue-green swamp mud for all he managed to move. Emotion came next, in a frenzied rush that left him breathless. Attraction rose, unbidden, beaten down by a rush of rage and hatred that made his entire body feel on fire. The beer churned in his gut, and he was glad that they had not yet eaten dinner. As it was, the last remnants of their morning meal sat like lead.

Nightfall found himself aimlessly rubbing the swan through the fabric of his pocket and forced his hand still.

He stood. "Excuse me for a few moments, please, Master."

Without taking his eyes from the performance, Edward nodded.

Nightfall hurried from the room, not bothering to detail his intentions further, glad for the distraction that made a no explanation necessary. Probably, Edward would assume he’d left to relieve himself.

Once through the double doors of the performance chamber, Nightfall entered the main corridor, glancing right and left to judge the location of the dancers’ rooms as well as get a general feel for the layout. Dance hall workers wore red shirts and pantaloons or dresses with black trim, making them easy to spot amid the rabble. Most of the milling folk in the corridor consisted of men who knew when the style of showmanship changed, now headed into the hall. The others seemed mostly family groups, leaving for the same reason. Nightfall blended into the latter, his sharp gaze discerning a guard stopping people who meandered down either hallway rather than directly outside or into the spectators’ area.

Perhaps because Nightfall believed Prince Edward wholly secure in a crowded public place, the oath-bond remained passive at its tingling routine. Afraid to stir it, Nightfall reminded himself repeatedly that he intended no specific, Nightfall-like action, only minor spying and climbing. As much as he wished to reveal himself before slaughtering the woman who had betrayed him, to let her fear and understand her mistake, he knew he could not do so. Never before had he wanted to draw attention to his work in any way. The straightforward simplicity of Nightfall’s crimes had made them easy to copy, thus causing many more than he committed to become attributed to him and making him seem to be in many places at once. Those things had much to do with the demon’s name with which the masses had burdened him. Yet, this once, he wanted the satisfaction of a victim’s understanding. He wanted revenge.

Nightfall circled the dance hall, an oblong building with several rectangular wings that held the quarters of dancers, workers, and overseers. A few well-timed glimpses through windows led him to the performers’ area; he found it last of the four wings. The time used to avert the suspicions of passersby on the evening roads had dragged, and he guessed Kelryn’s session on stage had probably finished during his search. It bothered him that she might reach her quarters before him; he wanted to lie in wait. Yet, this would have to work as well. Quite likely, he would not have recognized her room anyway without her presence. Choosing wrongly would delay his mission and his return to his master.

Nightfall discovered Kelryn’s voice first, the familiar alto lilting through a shuttered window. She chanted words to the tune of the dancing song, occasionally humming phrases she could not recall. He drifted to the correct room, only to find the window shuttered and the wood painted closed. Frustration gripped him. For a moment, he stood rooted, thwarted, annoyance adding to the fires of his rage. He could crash his way through the barrier but not without alerting Kelryn, and every neighbor, to the danger. Turning, he trotted back to the dance hall entrance.

Once inside, he chose the left hallway. An enormous man in dance hall clothing stepped into his way. "Did you need something, sir?”

Nightfall tipped the man six copper, generous enough to get his way without becoming too memorable. "One of the girls invited me back."

The guard brightened, standing aside, and Nightfall continued his walk. He had expected it to prove that easy. Once the seductive dancing began, many of the girls would earn extra money by making arrangements on the side. He had balked at using the hallway previously because it required working his way past a guard who might remember him after the crime. Now, that could not be avoided. He would simply have to hope the man had not looked too closely or that he would become lost amid a sea of suspects. Kelryn had escaped his wrath so far by keeping on the run. This time, he had her cornered; and that opportunity might not present itself again.

The corridor seemed endless, and Nightfall counted doors as he went. Yet, though it had seemed to take forever to get there, too soon he stood before the door to Kelryn’s chamber. He fingered the dagger in his sleeve, well aware of the location of the other three blades on his person. His heart pounded, and his thoughts raced. He attributed a blossoming tickle in his chest to the excitement of finally slaughtering the one who had stolen his love, then betrayed him, of putting to rest the one woman to whom he had dared fully expose himself and all that he was. Ready, he drew a deep breath and eased open the door.

Nightfall took in the scene in an instant. The room contained a dresser/table with a matching stiff wooden chair, an inset closet, and a bed. Kelryn stood in the open center of the room, her costume clutched in her hands. She wore only two pieces of lacy undergarments, the top covering breasts and upper torso and the bottom spanning from waist to halfway down her thighs. The sheer fabric hid nothing, enhancing rather than hiding the delicate nipples and impressing a perfect triangle in the lower regions. His entrance surprised them both; his memory had not fully captured the grace of her form, thinner than in the past. An awkward silence ensued during which Nightfall managed to step inside and lever the door closed behind him.

Kelryn dropped the dress and back-stepped. Cosmetics flaked beneath her eyes, hiding dark circles poorly. Beneath a web of sleepless, red lines, he found a fear in her eyes that seemed older than the shock of a strange intruder in her room. "I’m-I’m sorry. I’m not taking clients."

“I’m not a client." Nightfall drifted closer, sexually aroused despite himself. It occurred to him that nothing would stop him from ravishing her first, and she deserved the humiliation and pain that would come with a rape prior to murder. But some emotion he tried to deny held him back. Just the brief idea of such cruelty instantly sapped him of desire, and a battered pocket of caring colored his thoughts even as he ignored and reviled it. He would have to fight his heart and spirit just to find the courage to kill her.

Apparently recognizing something violent in his stance, Kelryn took another backward step. Her gaze flicked to his blue-black eyes and held there momentarily, as if reading something in their depths. Her blank stare bunched into a mask of surprise, then a smile lit the corners of her features. "Marak," she whispered.

The recognition caught Nightfall completely by surprise. He cringed, waiting for the oath-bond to sever body from soul; but it remained quiescent. Clearly, her unassisted identification did not count as him revealing himself. "What?” was all he squeezed from vocal cords that would not function.

"Marak. You’re alive." The tight smile became a huge and open grin. "You’re alive!" Joy colored Kelryn’s tone and a happy blush tinged her cheeks. She ran toward him.

Before Kelryn took her second stride, Nightfall seized the glass swan and hurled it to the floor at her feet. It shattered, slivers of colored glass skittering across stone. A glaze of light trickling through a crack in the shutter glittered from every shard.

Kelryn checked her rush, back-pedaling. Only her well-practiced grace saved her bare feet from the largest fragments. The smile wilted into open-mouthed bewilderment. “Wha-why? Marak?"

Nightfall had hoped the destruction would trigger a release for his anger and charge him to the necessary violence. Though he had brooded over the reunion, he had never rehearsed the words he would speak before the murder. Always before, the proper threats and warnings had come as naturally as breathing. Now, he seemed to have forgotten even the language of his childhood. Rage rose, directed fully inward. He could not recall feeling this awkward or disarmed since his mother’s beatings had become routine. Only action mattered. If he needed to slaughter the traitor in silence, he would do so. Killing, at least, he knew well. He poised for attack.

A sudden pounding on the door startled Nightfall. Prince Edward’s unmistakable voice boomed through the panel. "Sudian?”

Nightfall tensed and froze, the need for decision breaking him free from his trance. He strung together the scenario of how Edward had tracked him. Apparently concerned for the length of time his sorcerer-hunted squire had taken to perform a simple function, the prince had gone searching. Probably, the guard had steered him to the proper corner of the dance hall. Whether or not the prince or someone else had witnessed his entry into this particular room remained to be seen.

Kelryn’s tired, hazel eyes fixed on Nightfall’s face. She remained still, taking her cues from him.

Nightfall waved Kelryn to stay silent and in place.

Edward hammered at the door again. "Sudian. I know you’re there. Answer me at once."

A string of words flooded Nightfall’s mind then, every one profane. It occurred to him first to slay Kelryn swiftly and claim he had found her corpse on the floor. His shock at discovering a bleeding body should suffice as reason for delaying his response to his master’s call. In demon guise, no other plan would have proven necessary. He guessed that, most likely, the prince had caught a glimpse of him disappearing through this door; but, as Sudian, he dared not risk the possibility that someone else had spotted him, a person who had watched the door since Kelryn’s return. If Prince Edward opened the door before he finished the slaying, or if the dancer managed a scream, his story would fail. Under other circumstances, he would murder the witness, too. This time, however, such action would cost him his soul and, though he hated to admit it, his conscience. Even without Gilleran’s magic to restrain him, he would not harm Alyndar’s younger prince.

These considerations flew through Nightfall’s mind in an instant. He glared into Kelryn’s face with a menace he believed she would not dare to challenge. "Play along. Make a mistake and my torture will make the Father’s hell you find afterward seem merciful." Without awaiting a reply, or even a change of expression, he partially turned to open the door. Any attempt by Kelryn to feign innocence or surprise might drive him to the very violence he had sought and failed to dredge forth moments earlier. She lived now only by the grace of two things: a sorcerer’s magic and Nightfall’s growing devotion to his master. He tried to convince himself the first reason remained the more important of the two.

Nightfall pulled the door open, and Prince Edward stood outlined in its frame. Though he hated the need, Nightfall resumed his proper role, taking care to keep his attention and his warning stare on Kelryn. "Prince Edward Nargol of Alyndar." His arm traced the appropriate flourish, though with hurried awkwardness, "Master, this is Kelryn. We grew up in the same town."Kelryn curtsied, still graceful despite her obvious bewilderment.

From the edge of his vision, Nightfall could tell Prince Edward had not moved. His silence seemed so uncharacteristic it became worrisome. Nightfall routed more of his direct attention on his master.

The prince gawked at what was, apparently, the first near-naked woman he had seen. He squirmed, trying valiantly to tear his gaze away, propriety battling pleasure with a frenzy that seemed unwinnable. "Oh," he managed, averting his eyes with impressive self-control. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know you needed… I mean…" He stepped inside, closed the door, and politely kept his back to Kelryn.

Nightfall flicked his gaze deliberately to the dress on the floor. Kelryn raised her brows in question but picked up her clothing and shook glass fragments from the fabric. She pulled it over her head, adjusting the seams. She broke the silence. "I apologize for my dress, noble sir. I wasn’t expecting company. I hope I didn’t offend.”

"Offend?" Prince Edward took a surreptitious peek to ascertain that Kelryn had used the moment to make herself decent before he turned around fully. “Dear me, no. I’m sorry we barged in on you. I had no idea." He looked, at Nightfall for an explanation, but his eyes betrayed him, slipping back to examine Kelryn’s firm and slender figure through the close-fitting material.

Nightfall knew a twinge of what felt maddeningly like jealousy. "Master, I’m sorry for my long absence. I saw Kelryn for the first time in years and thought I should greet her."

"You would have been remiss to do otherwise, Sudian." Although he addressed his squire, Edward’s attention locked on Kelryn’s eyes. He shuffled toward her, heavy boots crunching glass shards to powder. "I’m so sorry about disturbing you, and I’d like to make amends. Would you have dinner with Sudian and me tonight?"

No! Nightfall shook his head, gesturing briskly for Kelryn to decline.

The dancer hesitated momentarily. Then a smile curled onto her face, and she shrugged slightly for Nightfall’s benefit. "Noble sir," Kelryn said softly. "I would be honored.”

Nightfall perched on the broad window sill of their inn room, staring through the wavy glass. It overlooked an alleyway, and the wall of the opposite shop had become tediously familiar while Prince Edward bathed, dressed, and groomed. Nightfall believed he could picture every weathered mortar chip and splotch of dirt on building stone with his eyes closed. His mind worried the situation no matter how hard he tried to thrust it from his thoughts, and the same conclusion rose repeatedly. An association between a betrayer and the man whose safety determined the lot of Nightfall’s soul could only lead to disaster. He needed to halt the dinner before it began. Barring that, he would make it an experience neither wished to repeat. Once they separated, he could find a way to slaughter Kelryn without Edward’s knowledge or interest.

The prince’s voice jarred Nightfall from his inescapable contemplation. “Sudian, what do you think of this?"

Nightfall swiveled his head to study his master. Edward wore a blue silk shirt beneath a supple leather tunic, and his breeks matched the shirt so perfectly in shade they had obviously been dyed, if not tailored, together. In lieu of his usual travel boots, he had donned lacing doeskin dress wear colored to match his clothing. He had combed his wet locks back, and they now fell in rakish, blond feathers around the straight and sturdy features. Nightfall had to admit his master looked appropriately princely, and it only added to his annoyance. "What do I think about what, Master?"

"This." Prince Edward made a gesture that spanned from his neck to his feet. The movement sent the spicy scent of perfume wafting to Nightfall.

Nightfall scowled, determined to place the dinner back into proper perspective. "I think it’s wonderful, Master, if you’re attending a court feast. For guzzling ale and spoiled meat in a dirty, southern tavern with a whore, it seems a bit formal."

"Whore?" Edward blinked, expression bewildered. Then, his eyes narrowed, and a red flush of irritation arose. "Sudian! That’s a horrible thing to call a lady.”

"A lady, yes. A prostitute, no."

"Stop it, Sudian! What happened to the manners I taught you?"

Nightfall spun around on the sill, drawing one leg to his chest and allowing the other to dangle. "Master, Kelryn accepts money from men to have sex with them. I believe that’s the definition of whore."

Edward smoothed back stray hairs. "When did you last see your lady friend?"

Nightfall weighed the answer, trying to guess the intention of the question in order to give the best response. "A few years ago, Master.”

"People change, Sudian."

"With all the proper respect, Master, Kelryn seemed awfully comfortable nearly naked in front of two men."

"She’s a dancer." Prince Edward pushed his sundries aside and sat on the desk beside them. The room also contained a wash basin, a crate, and straw on the floor that served as beds. Their supplies lay propped in a corner. "And we surprised her. She probably worried more for her safety than her garb." He smiled, his expression whimsical. "When a woman has a body like hers, there’s little need to hide it."

Nightfall bit his lip. In response to the prince’s defense, annoyance flared, though Nightfall did not wholly understand the intensity of his own reaction. "Being a prostitute doesn’t keep her from being my friend. But it’s not a proper association for a prince."

Prince Edward smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from his clothing. "I appreciate your concern, Sudian. But I’m in a better position to judge my associations than you." He studied Nightfall who still wore the same fading livery he had donned for the dance show. "Did you want to freshen up, too?"

"Master, I just think…" Nightfall trailed off, realizing he should answer the question before making his point. “I mean no, Master. I’m ready enough for dinner with Kelryn." The words brought memories of the foolish lengths to which love had once driven him. Then, he had dressed in his cleanest and best to entertain this woman, carefully combing out the dirty tangles that defined the character of Marak. "I mean she… well…" He wanted to speak cautiously but wound up blurting instead. "She has the clap, Master."

"The clap?"

"You know, Master. Bad blood. The delicate disease."

“l know what the clap is, Sudian." Annoyance tainted Edward’s voice. "And I also know how it’s spread. Having dinner is not the way." His eyes narrowed. "And how do you know what she has?”

I gave it to her. At least if you ask her old roommate in Nemix. "She told me, Master. I know."

Edward made a pensive noise.

"Master?" Nightfall encouraged Edward to share his thoughts.

The prince obliged. "Perhaps she only feared she had it. Or perhaps she felt other need to claim such a thing."

"Other need, Master?" Nightfall spun completely around to face Edward, letting both legs hang from the sill. Valiantly, he kept challenge from his tone. From any other man, the suggestion that Kelryn might have lied to keep him from her bedroom would have driven him to violence.

This time, Prince Edward dodged a reply. "Or perhaps she has the clap. What matter? Does that make her any less a person?" He leapt from the table and headed for the door.

Though discomfited by the entire situation, Nightfall followed quietly.

Prince Edward and Nightfall met Kelryn in Heffrilen’s Tavern in eastern Noshtillan, a pricey dining and drinking facility without an affiliated tavern or gambling hall. Servant-powered fans swirled pipe and cooking smoke into lazy circles, and violinists turned over the central stage to jugglers, acrobats, sleight-of-hand magicians, and solo lutists in turn. From past experience, Nightfall knew the food was mediocre; their gold would pay for ambiance and entertainment. He had given most of his leftover silver to Prince Edward, leaving only six for himself; and the realization that his master would spend much of that money on the woman who had betrayed him only fueled annoyance that already felt like a bonfire within him. Even the oath-bond seemed to recede beneath the wild blaze of emotion.

Kelryn had worn her sleekest, most elegant dress, a flattering green linen that fell in sweeps to her ankles. Marak had purchased it for her, and it had once been his favorite. Though he hated it now, he could not deny that it complimented her figure, and Edward’s long stare only affirmed his impression. The prince drew back her chair, waving her to sit with a dignified flourish that bordered on a bow.

Kelryn sat, flushing at the royal treatment. Her lowered eyes flitted a glance past Nightfall’s questioningly. Then, as she read the smoldering anger there, her embarrassed modesty became more of a restless concern. "Thank you," she said.

Edward took his seat. "You’re very welcome, lady."

Nightfall’s jaw tightened. He seriously wondered if he could stomach food while Kelryn played his master for the innocent fool he was. He wondered what she wanted from Alyndar’s younger prince. His money might win her dinners and trinkets, but not much more; and she would soon find that his status here gained him little in the way of privileges. Eventually, she would tire of him. Sooner rather than later, if Nightfall had his way.

Edward started the conversation. "So you and Sudian grew up together. When did you first meet?"

Kelryn glanced at Nightfall for clues. In truth, they had come together for the first time a scant five years ago.

Nightfall gave her nothing, testing. She had heard his vague comment to Edward in her room, and he had added nothing to the details. Whatever she said would serve well enough so long as she did not revert to truth. Her reply would show how seriously she had taken his threat.

Kelryn hesitated to the edge of impropriety. Then, when Nightfall gave her no hints, she improvised. "Birth. Mine, at least. He’s older."

"Alyndar or Mitano?" Edward asked.

“What?" Kelryn looked nervous.

"Sudian told me about how his family moved from Alyndar to Mitano when he was young. I just wondered whether you met before or after the travel."

Nightfall raised his brows, surprised Edward had recalled an offhand detail born of Nightfall’s need to cover for King Rikard’s claim that he came from the south. He hated having to create Sudian’s history piecemeal, but he had never expected to be recognized. Never before had anyone identified him across disguises.

"Before," Kelryn said, apparently concentrating more on the need to sound casual than on keeping the story as plausible as possible. Then, seeing a need to explain the oddity, she added, “Our families moved together. Our mothers were distant relatives and close friends. I have a brother Sudian’s age…"

A serving maid approached, a plump teenager with long, dark hair tied away from her face. Kelryn broke off and became suddenly intent on the newcomer, using the interruption to escape the need to create a lifetime of history from air. "Good evening.”

"Good evening, lady," the youngster returned. She took a position between Kelryn and Edward, then curtsied. “Good evening, noble sir." She ignored Nightfall. Servant livery tended to make a man invisible, a benefit in Nightfall’s mind. "Today we have mutton cakes, venison stew, roast pheasant in gravy, and shark steaks. What can I get for you?"

Edward and Nightfall had eaten in so many inns where storage and hunting determined the fare, the choice caught them without opinion. Kelryn, too, remained silent longer than mannerly. The cook in the dance hall surely made a single dish, each meal depending upon available supplies. Likely, however, she had had rare occasion to dine here. Nightfall had also done so, in "demon" guise and as Balshaz the merchant. From experience and gossip, he knew that seafood carted up from the south tended to age more before preparation than the hunted or farmed animals in Noshtillan. He had also learned that Heffrilen’s cook’s talents fell short when it came to spicing fish.

Nightfall broke the silence. "Kelryn, I know your likes and dislikes. Might I suggest the shark steak?"

Kelryn glanced at Nightfall, obviously surprised to find him talking to her. "Thank you, Sudian, but I’ve had my heart set on fowl. I’d love to try some of yours, though." She rescued herself from bad food, placing the onus back on Nightfall at the same time.

Nightfall gave her the win, having little at stake in the verbal spar. Though he knew Edward’s order should come next, he responded to the attention of companions and serving maid, now directed toward him by her comment. “Kelryn, my dear. After our fishing trips on the Lixdar River, how could you forget that eating shark makes me ill? I’ll have the mutton, if my master will forgive my selecting before him."

Prince Edward made a gracious gesture of dismissal. "If you recommend the fish so highly, Sudian, I guess I’ll have it."

Nightfall stiffened. Rescuing his own taste buds had proven easy. Saving the prince would likely become more difficult. "Please, Master. Don’t go by my advice." He tried to look stricken, keeping his voice low. "If your taster gets sick, how will you know…?"

Edward returned his squire’s gaze, brows raised in question. Nightfall had not insisted on testing his food for poison for some time.

Nightfall kept his return stare earnest, hoping Edward would attribute his resurgence of paranoia to the sorcerer rather than Kelryn.

A light dawned in the prince’s eyes, and he smiled at the serving maid. "I’ll have the pheasant, too, please. And a glass of your best wine for each of us."

The server gave Kelryn an envious look that spoke volumes. Her sigh told Nightfall that she wondered how a dance hall girl snagged a prince as handsome and polite as any storyteller’s hero. She trotted off to fill the order, and conversation fell once more to Prince Edward.

"Families so close they move together.” The prince returned to the previous conversation, to Kelryn’s obvious chagrin. "Sudian must have seemed like another brother."

Kelryn glanced at Nightfall who returned a glare in sullen silence. Everything about the current situation irritated him, from the need to guess Kelryn’s motivations, to the prince’s dutiful kindness to one he believed his squire’s friend. Trapped into breaking bread with an enemy, he felt as restless as a child getting lectured, and the serving maid’s assumption that Edward and Kelryn formed a couple raised an anger that seemed dangerous and sourceless. Apparently taking its cue from Nightfall’s consideration of Kelryn as a threat, the oath-bond maintained a steady, head-jarring ring.

Kelryn gave the only safe answer. "Oh, very much so. Like a brother, but without the competition for my parents’ attention. In some ways, he seemed more brother than my brother."

Edward folded his napkin onto his lap and tried to draw Nightfall into the conversation. “And you only said you grew up with her. Was she like a sister to you?"

Nightfall replied dutifully. "Yes, Master. A sister.” He copied Edward’s table manners since he had never been trained to have any of his own. Few places wasted cloth on linens, and it never occurred to him to place one on his lap.

When Nightfall did not go on, Edward pressed. "Tell me what it was like. Growing up together, I mean."

Kelryn also directed her attention to Nightfall, letting him play featured speaker this time.

Nightfall shrugged, in no mood for chatter, especially happy lies. "Master, there’s nothing to tell. Really.”

Prince Edward shook his head, grinning even as he dismissed his squire’s detachment. "Has he always been like this? Modest, I mean. He didn’t even mention to anyone that he saved my life."

"Yours, too?" Kelryn joined the conversation with all the eagerness Nightfall lacked. "He killed a snake that tried to bite me once. A poisonous type. Grabbed it with his bare hands, killed it, and continued a story he was telling without missing a word."

Edward gave Nightfall a pleasant look that both admired and condemned his squire’s humility.

Nightfall shrugged. That incident had happened, though only a few years ago. And, to his recollection, the topic of conversation had remained the snake for quite some time afterward.

The prince turned back to Kelryn. “I got caught in the middle of a bar fight. Sudian grabbed a dagger intended for me in midair. Nearly lost his fingers.” He nudged his squire. "Show her, Sudian."

Obedient to his master’s command, Nightfall gave Kelryn a quick glimpse of the scar. She cringed in sympathy, though whether unconscious or feigned, Nightfall did not try to guess.

"If he makes you his friend, you never need to doubt his loyalty," Kelryn said, the statement sounding ludicrous to Nightfall from the mouth of a traitor. Forming bonds had always proven difficult or impossible for him, and only his friendship with Dyfrin had lasted.

Prince Edward agreed heartily. "Loyal to me before himself. A rare and special squire, indeed.”

Nightfall glanced around the tables at the other patrons, uncomfortable with Edward’s heartfelt but ignorant praise and Kelryn’s fake allegiance.

Kelryn smiled, her plain features alight and almost beautiful in the lantern glow. Even the sunken eyes and bloodshot whites that evinced fretful nights seemed to disappear. "Then you must be very remarkable yourself to earn such treatment.”

"Thank you."

Nightfall believed he saw a reddish tinge to Edward’s cheeks. He hoped but doubted conscience was the thing disturbing Kelryn’s sleep.

Having found a familiar topic of conversation, Kelryn stuck with it. "Sudian always protected me. For instance, he hated that I used to sometimes have to sleep with strangers for money. He’d spread rumors that I had the clap so men would stay away."

"Really." Edward’s tone went thoughtful, and he glanced at Nightfall.

Caught in a lie, Nightfall avoided the prince’s gaze and wished the night would swiftly end.

But it did not. Late evening chased into night, and the conversation scarcely seemed to change. Each of Nightfall’s companions extolled his virtues while he sat in a bitter silence interrupted only by the occasional need to address a direct question. He kept his replies clipped, monosyllabic when possible, and avoided lengthy explanations or descriptions. The food arrived. Nightfall ate quickly, hoping to set the pattern for the meal and the night. But Kelryn dined with her usual slow elegance, and the prince appeared more interested in conversation than food. It seemed an eternity before Prince Edward left to tend to payment in private, leaving Nightfall and Kelryn alone.

Kelryn scarcely waited until Edward passed beyond earshot, whispering to keep other diners from overhearing. "Marak, how… ‘?" She reached for his hands.

Nightfall moved first, catching her fingers in a grip that appeared tender but was tight enough to cause pain. "No acts or explanations. You’ll only enrage me." He met her hazel eyes with an icy glare. "You’re alive because of the prince and only because of the prince. If you harm him, I’ll feed you to the wolves piece by screaming, bloody piece." He threw her hands away and returned his own to the tabletop.

Kelryn paled, obediently silent.

The urge seized him to storm from Heffrilen’s Tavern, leaving his rage bunched and tangible at the table while he escaped into the night. But he knew the anger would only accompany him, and he would not leave Prince Edward alone and vulnerable in a deceiver’s grip.

Kelryn’s eyes blurred, filled suddenly with moisture. "Marak, listen. Please."

Her farce dragged pain and fury to the surface. Before he could think, his half-closed fist slammed against her cheek, throwing her head sideways and sending tears splashing to the unoccupied table beside them. With unconscious grace, she managed to catch her balance and keep the chair, or herself, from falling.

Nightfall stared at his hand, outrage against Kelryn and himself welling in concentric waves. Not since he had avenged his mother’s murder had he lashed out in anger and never in any guise other than that of Nightfall, especially in a public tavern. He knew fury at himself for loss of self-control, against Kelryn for driving him to that loss, and against the mother who had taught him to respond to unhappiness with violence. That he had hurt Kelryn did not matter. Hours before, he would have slain her; given the opportunity, he would do so now. Something deep inside drove him to apologize until his soul emptied of guilt and sorrow, to beg for the forgiveness of the only woman he had ever loved. Yet, he dismissed the seed as something ingrained from his childhood and forced away the image of his mother pouring forth promises of devotion and tranquility while he still ached from the blows she beseeched him to excuse. He believed no leftover vestige of caring made him feel guilt and drove him to seek absolution, just a haunting memory from his youth.

Kelryn’s head sagged to the table, and her shoulders shook rhythmically as she wept in silence. Nightfall looked away in time to notice Prince Edward returning. A new discomfort swept him, one that took consequence into consideration. He could not explain Kelryn’s tears to his master, and he would not bully her into a lie now even should he have the time to do so.

Prince Edward returned to his seat talking. "It’s dark outside already. I hadn’t realized…" He trailed off, apparently noticing Kelryn’s state of mind. "Are you all right?"

Kelryn wiped her eyes, then raised her head, tossing back her short, white locks in a gesture that she probably intended to look casual. "I’m fine. Just a bit queasy. The food tasted wonderful, and I thank you for it. I just think maybe something in the gravy isn’t sitting well in my stomach." She started to rise.

Edward stood and caught Kelryn’s arm. "Here, let me help you up." He steadied her as she gained her feet. "Do you need a Healer?"

"No." Kelryn rubbed the remainder of the tears from her eyes, using the gesture to brush aside strands of hair clinging to her forehead. "I’ll be fine. I just need some rest."

Edward continued to clutch Kelryn’s arm. "Here. Let me walk you home." Finally, his attention shifted to Nightfall. "Sudian, why don’t you go back to the room and get things settled for the night? I’ll take Kelryn home."

The idea of leaving those two alone pulsed dread through Nightfall. The oath-bond’s warning tingle worsened. "Master, I can escort her." He tried to gear his tone to imply "my friend, my responsibility" rather than concerns about the decision.

The prince’s reply was firm, making it clear that he would brook no further suggestions. "I appreciate your offer, Sudian, but I’d rather handle this exactly as I instructed."

Nightfall’s next recommendation, that he accompany them, died on his tongue. Edward’s manner suggested it would not be well-received. "Yes, Master. I’ll see you back at the room." He headed for the exit, the oath-bond becoming stronger with each step he took. He quelled it with the understanding that he would not leave Edward alone with Kelryn. Even if not for the risk of her association with sorcerers, he had no wish for the two to discuss him without knowing what got said. Although he felt certain Edward would trust his word over hers, he could prepare better if he knew what he needed to defend against. Likely, she would tell Edward things she would not dare to have mentioned in Nightfall’s presence, at least about how he had struck her that evening. Surely, she knew she could not dissolve the relationship between prince and squire in a night. She might insidiously infuse Edward with information, winning his trust until she delivered the blow that destroyed them both: Nightfall for being the demon of legend and Edward for associating with him.

Nightfall backed into the shadows outside of the tavern and waited.

Shortly, Prince Edward and Kelryn exited into the warm, summer air. He kept her arm in his own, worrying for her every step like a mother with a toddler. Nightfall waited until they passed, then followed at a distance that kept him well-hidden but revealed nearly every word of their conversation.

"Feeling better, lady?"

"Much, thank you, Ned. I think I just needed the night air."

Prince Edward seemed noticeably relieved. "I’m sorry about the food. I wanted to nourish, not poison, you."

"No, please, don’t apologize.” Kelryn touched the prince’s upper arm with her free hand. "It was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. And I really do feel fine now."

"Do you still want to go straight home?"

"A walk might be nice.”

Kelryn’s words and gentle tone brought back vivid remembrances of Nightfall’s own times with her. With them came a raw jealousy he could not deny. Bad enough Kelryn seemed to be striking up a friendship with the one he needed to protect. The thought that she might sleep with him drove Nightfall back to the wrath the shock of hitting her had dispelled. Worse, he could not quite figure out why the idea bothered him so much. It might do for the prince to lose his sexual innocence. He just wished it could be with anyone but her. Wished, not only for the prince, but for himself. For all that he hated her, the love and esteem he had once held for her could not be fully banished; and that realization only fueled the anger.

Prince Edward and Kelryn strolled through the darkened streets, oblivious to the shadow that trailed them in practiced silence. Although they seemed to walk together, stride for stride, only Kelryn knew the town well enough to lead the way. They chatted about the sights, such as the night allowed, and the meal, gradually wandering further from the streets and alleyways to a grassy knoll just north of the town’s edge. There, they sat beneath a spry, young oak; and the conversation ceased as they settled into place.

Nightfall found a hiding place, low and shadowed by a copse of prickly bushes. He kept his need focused. Every movement, of Kelryn or a surreptitious stranger, might mean danger to Prince Edward. Every word might place Nightfall in a compromising position that risked anything from simple punishment to the loss of his soul to magic. Yet, he could not help but notice how the moonlight striped highlights through Kelryn’s silver hair and the dress outlined a figure that had come to define female perfection, at least in Nightfall’s mind. Even her face seemed to gain a beauty in the glow. The moon complimented the prince as well, adding life to golden features that needed no enhancement.

"So how did you and Sudian come together?" Kelryn started the conversation, turning it back toward the topic that most bothered Nightfall. The tactic surprised him. He had expected her to snuggle up to Edward first, winning him over with sex before turning him against his squire. Yet, Nightfall could also see the strategy in defining his relationship with Edward before attempting whatever evil she planned. Perhaps she was still in the fishing stage, gathering information, checking Edward for a natal talent or for wealth, and seeking the best means to sell out Nightfall and his gift/curse once again.

Prince Edward studied Kelryn, obviously liking what he saw. "He came to the palace and pledged himself into my services with a vibrant loyalty to me and my causes that I appreciate every day we’re together." He looked away into the distance, a transparent attempt to balance his staring. "Does he do that often? Pledge himself, soul and mind, to people and their principles?"

Kelryn shook her head. "Never before that I know of. You must be as special as you seem." She pulled her legs to her chest and stared at the stars. "In fact, Sudian tends not to trust anyone."

"I’ve noticed that." Prince Edward glanced back to Kelryn, excited by his observation. "Why is that?" His words disappeared into an uncomfortably long hush. The song of night insects seemed to grow impossibly loud.

"I don’t know that he would want anyone to know this…"

Nightfall crouched deeper into the darkness, attentive, locked into one strategy. If he retaliated for Kelryn’s revelations, he would add credence to them. The only sensible response would be to remain in place, listening for the details so he could consider ways to counter her lies and truths.

Kelryn continued. "I told you our families were close, but I didn’t say why. Sudian never knew his father, and his mother had no interest in or experience with raising children. She was an only child, too, I think."

Nightfall listened intently. He had avoided talking about his childhood, even with Kelryn, and had told her only that he had no father and his relationship with his mother was less than ideal. His love for Kelryn had made him want to discuss happier details and confess the deepest, darkest secrets about himself; but he had avoided the sore specifics.

The insect chorus rose and fell in cycles. Prince Edward stretched into a more comfortable position, attention fully focused on Kelryn. "He had a bad mother? That makes him not trust?" Edward struggled for the connection.

Kelryn tried to supply it. "Many times, he’d come to our cottage limping or too bruised to play or sit. Once, I remember, he couldn’t use an arm for months. Lots of nights, he’d sleep with us or out in the streets or in a field somewhere. He never said so, but I’m sure his mother would send him away or beat him when she got upset. And we were all poor, even with a Papa to earn money, so there was lots to get upset about."

The story disturbed Nightfall, hitting too close to the truth. Kelryn’s intentions still eluded him. It made little sense for her to talk about him rather than flirt with her victim, and she had so far managed only to evoke pity. Perhaps she did not realize that Edward’s drive to help the downtrodden would only make him more sympathetic to the plight she had described.

"Oh, poor Sudian." Edward lowered his head, clearly sorry. "I didn’t know.”

"And that’s probably for the best." Kelryn shifted, but Nightfall could not quite tell if she had touched the prince’s hand or only made a soothing gesture. "I don’t usually like lying, but I wouldn’t tell him that you know. I think compassion and understanding make him uncomfortable, for the same reason as trust." She returned to the original question. "Whenever I saw her with him, his mother was always loving and merciful. It seemed like she was constantly apologizing for something, and she probably was. So, anyway, I think Sudian associates comforting with hitting. And caring with betrayal. So he doesn’t trust anyone." She added quickly, "Except you, apparently. You must be really special."

Nightfall let the words wash over him, wondering how she had come so close. Not since Dyfrin had taken young Nightfall under his tutelage had anyone managed to guess so many details about his past. He could not help considering her explanation for his behavior, though he discarded it. He hated pity because it did not suit the strong and private person he had become, and he associated caring with betrayal because the two went hand in hand. It seemed eerie to hear the words in the voice of one who had reinforced the truth of the concept, she who had pretended to love then turned him over to a sorcerer instead. It only proved that she had known and fully understood the cruelties she inflicted upon him, and she had no shame or conscience.

Kelryn’s explanation seemed to lose Edward, like a poorly crafted story with roots so outlandish even a child could not believe. "I couldn’t imagine hitting anyone. How could a mother batter her own son?"

Kelryn shrugged. "Don’t expect me to defend her. But I know from others that, when you’re trying to feed and fend for self and family with no means to raise money except to sell yourself to strangers in front of children you hope will fare better than yourself but probably won’t, a woman can get terribly mad and frustrated. Hit a stranger, and he hits back. Hit your own child, and he still has to love and depend on you."

"This happens often?"

"I doubt it. But I don’t think Sudian is completely alone in this either."

Nightfall could imagine the light shining in Edward’s innocent, blue eyes at the thought of a new cause to champion. To one who saw evil in slavery and striking of servants by masters, the thought of adults beating children had to burn like a brand. He waited for the prince’s rallying call, the endless stream of committed words he could never translate into action. For the first time since he had seen Kelryn again, he smiled. Though hardly the worst he could wish on her, he appreciated that she would suffer through one of Edward’s long, rambling tirades.

But the prince did not speak. Instead, he sat in a pensive silence, apparently considering all aspects of the problem for the first time. Despite the darkness, position and attitude told Nightfall that consideration, not shock, kept the prince uncharacteristically quiet. The disruption of the relationship between mother and child put the slave and servant beatings into a new perspective. Surely, Nightfall’s story about slaves shunning freedom only added to the frenzy of thought taking form in Edward’s head. No easy resolution here, at least not to a prince dedicated to goodness, right, and fairness to all.

To Nightfall, however, the solution came in a rush. In the past, he had tried to deal with, deny, or forget the ugliness that was a theory to Edward but an existence to him. Never before had he pressed forward to find an answer for other children in a similar quandary. Now it seemed obvious. The moment she chose to hit him, his mother had lost the privilege of raising a child. He should have run; or, better yet, some adult should have spirited him away to a farm where the hardship of more mouths to feed became balanced by more hands to tend the chores. He would have missed his mother’s love, but he would have traded it for that of another who did not temper her affection with pain. As a bonus, he would have had a father and siblings and responsibilities that gained him praise as well as punishment. To consider the needs or feelings of the battering mother made no sense to him. Her intermittent love for him was no justification for the thing she had made him into, for the innocent lives he had taken with little remorse.

Nightfall pushed his own ideas aside, wondering how much had come from his speculation about Edward’s thoughts. He could no longer blame his spree of murder on his mother; his own hand had wielded every weapon.

Kelryn changed the direction of the conversation, if not its subject. "Whatever he suffered as a child, Sudian’s a good man. I only ever needed to mention a problem to him, and he handled it for me every time. Those he cares for, he cares for well."

Only Nightfall understood the understatement. The few men who dared to manhandle Kelryn had quietly disappeared, never known to be victims of the demon. Over time, Kelryn had become cautious about her complaints, making certain to hastily add, "But he’s a nice person. I like him," when she feared he might take action with a punishment beyond the scope of the crime.

“He’s certainly done well by me," Edward returned absently, thoughts still apparently on the previous topic.

Kelryn rose. "I need to head home. I’ve got practice in the morning. Thank you for a pleasant evening.”

Prince Edward leapt to his feet, youth lending him a grace that nearly matched Kelryn’s. "I’ll walk you back. The streets aren’t safe for a beautiful, young lady out alone at night."

"Beautiful?" Kelryn took the first few steps, the agile movement adding to her loveliness. "Thank you. That means so much coming from a handsome man used to women of high breeding."

"All the cosmetics and perfumes in the world can’t give a woman the natural radiance you possess."

Kelryn lowered her head modestly, her smile visible even through the night.

The maudlin, stilted line nauseated Nightfall, but the image even more so. As much as he hated the thought, the prince and the dancer looked good together.