“If we’re lucky, the guards from the city wall will be able to see us.”
Gawyn was familiar with the path he steered his horse through. The trail was on the way to McGregan Clearing, a favored picnic spot.
They had searched the waterfall earlier that day and found nothing. The only other spot Gawyn could think of for a picnic was McGregan Clearing. As the moon rose high in the sky, Gawyn led his horse down the forest path. When he heard talking in the distance, he tied his horse to a tree and continued on foot. He knew he couldn’t leave Damien alone for long. He was out of his mind with remorse. He would do something foolish, Gawyn was sure.
But Gawyn had to search for Justina. He felt compelled to know she was safe. He had to find her. He would search around the clearing. Perhaps she was hiding with Adam in the forest somewhere. But why hadn’t she returned to the castle? That’s what worried him.
He would be lucky to find her, he knew. Especially if she were walking. It was unlikely they would bump into each other. The forest was too big. He walked further, keeping his eyes and ears open, scanning. Movement sounded to his left and he paused. But then he heard the scurrying of an animal. He relaxed slightly and continued forward, moving from tree to tree. He would stop, scan, and move. Until he saw an unnatural bump on the ground. The shape looked like a large person. Slowly, he drew a dagger from his belt. He waited, listening. Was it someone sleeping?
He inched forward. The man, it was obvious the rotund figure was a large man, did not move. The smell of blood was strong. When he stood over him, Gawyn saw the fur he wore across his large shoulders and recognized him as a Hungar. He glanced around to be sure there were no others. His gaze fell upon another dark form on the forest floor. Smaller. Much smaller.
Gawyn leaned close to the big man. No snoring. He leaned closer. No breathing. It took a moment to notice the ground beneath the man’s head was slick with blood. He was dead. Gawyn pulled back to look at him. It was difficult to see anything but shadows in the dim night, but Gawyn made out a dark slash across the man’s throat. His eyes narrowed slightly. Killed. By whom? Soldiers would inflict sword wounds.
Gawyn turned to the other form and approached the small shape. Before he got close, he could smell it. He had smelled death several times in his life and he would never get used to it. He stopped when he could see the outline of the small, thin body on the forest floor. A boy. His entire body clenched in dread. He bent beside the body, moving close to see his features. His eyes were open, staring off into the night sky. Gawyn recognized him immediately. Adam. He steeled himself against the agony that welled up inside him and shook his head in regret.
He whirled. Where was Justina? He circled the small area and couldn’t find any more bodies. He stopped at Adam’s side again. Had Adam killed the Hungar? No. Adam was too inexperienced to be of any threat to a warrior. It was probably the Hungar that killed Adam. Gawyn glanced back at the lump of a man. Then who killed the Hungar? Someone had slit his throat.
A noise from the clearing beyond caught his attention. A rustling sound. He bent and stealthily followed the trampled leaves to the clearing. As he stepped from the trees, the moon broke through the clouds to shine down. Bodies lay scattered all through the clearing. The grasses were trampled around the corpses. Gawyn steeled himself and moved into the clearing. He walked to the first body. A woman. He gently turned her over. Lady Cathleen. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted in a silent scream.
Gawyn forced himself to be numb. He had seen death before. Even innocent death. But this, this was slaughter. An unnecessary killing. He clenched his free fist. Brutal. Women were no threat to armed soldiers. He slowly rose and looked around the clearing.
There were so many bodies and he would have to check every one, no matter how difficult it was. He had known these people, spent days with them. They were close friends of Aurora’s. Aurora. Her body would be here, too. He forced emotion aside. At least he’d be able to return it to Damien for a proper burial.
He moved to the next body. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he found Justina amidst the carnage. No matter what he did, he couldn’t prepare himself for her death.
Once, darkness had been Damien’s friend. Once, he had belonged to the shadows. But Aurora had come and banished them from his soul, revealing him as a hero. A good man. Now, he felt cold. Rage burned inside him, charring away the good man he had become. With Aurora gone, the beast lived again. He wanted blood. He wanted to kill the Hungars. Every last one of them.
Damien threw the rope over the wall, glancing one way and then the other. He knew he couldn’t let the guards see him; they would never let him leave the castle alone. They would demand to accompany him. But this was something he had to do alone. He had been an assassin in another lifetime. He had been a killer. And he knew how to circumvent sentries and how to stay hidden. His instincts were heightened. He should have been amazed at how easily his past skills returned. But he wasn’t.
The moon hid behind thick clouds as his feet hit the ground. He looked up the tall wall where the rope hung. His passage of return. If he made it. It didn’t matter if he did or not. He would seek vengeance at all costs. He would be death’s messenger. He snuck across the moat. He was an excellent swimmer and the dark waters held no peril for him. He came up on the other side and stayed low to the ground, moving along the moat until he saw them. The Hungar camp directly outside of the city walls.
He clenched his teeth. Laughter floated around flickering fires and white tents. They had killed Aurora. The words played over and over in his mind and his hands clenched so tightly they shook. He wanted to kill them all. He wanted to make them pay for hurting her.
It would do no good to think of anything but his mission. There would be blood this night, he knew. The beast inside of him would be sated. He wanted the blood of one man above all the rest. The leader. Hogar. The one who had given the order to take Aurora’s life. To take her away from him.
He watched the camp, waiting patiently. Far too patiently for a man bent on death. He observed, taking in their laughter, their movements. Damien recognized the outline of Hogar, the big man with thick shoulders and arms. Hogar crossed the campsite and disappeared into a tent.
Damien focused on the tent. He stayed low to the ground and moved toward the tent. He paused once when a shout went up from his left. A drunken Hungar stumbled onto one of the campfires while another laughed.
He froze until the scene settled down and the camp was quiet again. Then he moved quickly, quietly forward. Hiding behind a wagon, he scanned the area. From this vantage point, he was able to see the front of Hogar’s tent. One guard. Hogar obviously thought there was no danger to him. The fool.
Damien slowly eased his dagger from his belt, making no sound. He would not miss this opportunity. Hogar would be dead before day break.
His hand shook with the image of Hogar lying in a pool of his own blood. Damien desired his death like he had no other.
He skirted the edges of the camp moving from shadow to shadow. The essence of an assassin had returned, filling him with its full force. It was almost as if he had never left it. Such anger and the need for vengeance burned within him. He wanted blood. The beast inside him was demanding, hungry.
Inside Hogar’s tent, he saw the leader move. The big man crossed the tent and lay down, leaning forward to blow out a tiny flame.
Damien waited. Patiently, anticipating. He paused, scanning to make sure no one was watching. He waited for what seemed like hours until he heard a snore issuing from the tent. He moved. He lifted the edge of the tent flap and crawled beneath the sheet, pausing halfway beneath to allow his eyes to adjust to the complete darkness.
Hogar slept on the ground like the animal he was. Damien wasted no time. He moved swiftly, silently, deadly up to him until he stood over him. He placed the sharp edge of the dagger against Hogar’s throat and moved his wrist.
