I can't deny that I feel this. Maybe it is pride, or ego. I think it's a combination of that and having seen the horrors of the Darkling Realms before Korbin had unified my homeland. In my days before Rowan introduced me to the Harpers, I'd been responsible for putting many a brigand or thief, petty tyrant or assassin to death.
I'd wonder if in doing so, I'd become worse than that I'd killed.
This new role -- actively working to make this land right again -- feels good to me. The wandering bard who helps those in need does get old after a while, and if anyplace ever had a people needing my particular skills, it was the townsfolk of Amber.
*****
After the hilarity that had ensued back after retrieving Harry, we were shocked back into sobriety when we'd finally found our missing friend, Shenrakari. He was hiding in the darkness, at first reluctant to communicate with us. He was so... sullen, withdrawn, that I'd question that he was still himself. It turns out that he feared for the continued safety of his home village, which was overrun by Chaos demons not shortly after Shen had left with Fletcher. Only the somewhat soothing explanation of his mother, Salome, was able to bring him back into the mode in which we had all knew him.
Salome's words did not bode well for my friend. It appears that the Chaosians had rounded up all of the young men of Shen's age and stature in the hopes of finding him. This may have been purely because he is Salome's child, or I wondered if perhaps there was more to it than that. Either way, Shen was a marked man. I took solace in the fact that Shen, to protect his peoples, planned not to return to the village, and that we'd all be safer, overall, when we'd returned to Amber, which lay many days of riding away from us.
Suffice it to say that these thoughts were banished from my head as we came through the great Arden Forest to find the town and castle in greater shambles than we'd left it. Someone had taken great siege engines and totally obliterated the castle gates. We all had looked at each other for a moment, in silent shock, then spurred our mounts onward, hoping to find our friends, family, or even Fletcher.
*****
We moved though the darkened cavern like shadows, and our killing thrusts prompted hideous screams from the remnants of Dyson's men. We could hear him barking orders and taunting us through the darkness.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, there was no sound.
"Claire?" I whispered.
"Shh..." I heard, faintly.
Silence.
Suddenly, there was sound of a struggle, and a flare of light light the cave, burned at my eyes. Dyson held Claire around the throat with a massive arm, holding a wicked-looking dagger to her throat.
"Move and your plaything is dead," he giggled.
Claire looked at me with her wide eyes.
...do it...
...now...
...NOW!
I frowned, shaking my head, and then with one quick motion, threw my dagger straight into his throat.
I ran over to Claire's side; she smiled. "You're splitting the reward, buddy." I smiled and kissed her, only then noticing the cut from Dyson's knife, and the shimmering green of the poison that was even then coursing through her veins...
*****
Cecily and I charged across the outlying fields between the city and the Forest of Arden, headed back in the direction of the mountains from which the raiders had come. Although I was not in the mood for casual conversation, I had to admit I felt good having her ride beside me. For all of the kidding and joking, when it came to matters of her business, I'd seen few better. My smile was hidden in my hood when she'd gotten the satisfaction of trumping me as to our relative ages, and my mind actually began to wander back to normalcy before it returned to the task at hand.
We rode a bit longer as I struggled to contain the old anger that burned inside, yearning for release. Blasting through the front doors, weapons in hand, was a tactic likely to get me killed rather than save Syrana, so I had to control myself, to plan for a way in and out. As I contemplated this, we caught up with Fletcher and Syrana.
It did not take long for the verbal sparring to begin. Fletcher began to order us back to Amber while he and Gerda went on after Syrana. Our efforts to remind him that he was not the King fell on somewhat deaf ears; even Gerda, after some time, tried to convince him that Cecily had been chosen as our leader, and that her decisions should be what we abide by (based mostly upon the fact that she could destroy any of us should the whim overtake her.)
I can't remember if anything was decided as to this, but I trained it all out after a time and kept riding forward, hoping that Syrana was not wounded too badly, hoping beyond hope that her fate was not sealed.
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