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Part I

Raven’s shadow

sweeps across my heart,

Freezes the torrent of my tears

Seordah poem, author unknown

Verniers’ Account

He had h yet to reach his thirtieth year history had seen fit to garner hi who sent hi Hawk to the h the trials of war, Darkblade to his Cumbraelin enemies and, as I was to learn matic tribes of the Great Northern Forest - the Shadow of the Raven

Butin ht him to the docks: Hope Killer Soon you will die and I will see it Hope Killer

Although certainly taller than most men, I was surprised to find that, contrary to the tales I had heard, he was no giant, and whilst his features were strong they could hardly be called handsome His frame was muscular but not possessed of the massive thews described so vividly by the story tellers The only aspect of his appearance toas a hawk’s They said his eyes could strip a man’s soul bare, that no secret could be hidden if hehim now I could see why others would

The prisoner was acco in close escort, lances ready, hard eyes scanning the watching crowd for trouble The crowd, however, were silent They stopped to stare at hih, but there were no shouts, no insults or missiles hurled I recalled that they knew this man, for a brief tin army within its walls, and yet I saw no hate in their faces, no desire for vengeance Mostly they seemed curious Why was he here? Why was he alive at all?

The co to be led to the waiting vessel I putplace atop a spice barrel, nodding at the captain “Honour to you, sir”

The captain, a veteran Guards officer with a pale scar running along his jawline and the ebony skin of the southern Empire, returned the nod with practised formality “Lord Verniers”

“I trust you had an untroubled journey?”

The captain shrugged “A few threats here and there Had to crack a few heads in Jesseria, the locals wanted to hang the Hope Killer’s carcass from their temple spire”

I bridled at the disloyalty The Eh which the prisoner would travel, itsplain: no harm will come to the Hope Killer “The Emperor will hear of it,” I said

“As you wish, but it was a small matter” He turned to the prisoner “Lord Verniers, I present the Imperial prisoner Vaelin Al Sorna”

I nodded formally to the tall man, the name a steady refrain in my head Hope Killer, Hope Killer…“Honour to you, sir,” I forced the greeting out

His black eyesFor a moment I wondered if the aze of this savage Could he truly strip the truth from a man’s soul? Since the war, stories had abounded of the Hope Killer’s mysterious powers He could talk to animals, command the Nameless and shape the weather to his will His steel was tempered with the blood of fallen enemies and would never break in battle And worst of all, he and his people worshipped the dead, co with the shades of their forebears to conjure forth all ave little credence to such folly, reasoning that if the Northics were so powerful how had they contrived to suffer such a crushing defeat at our hands?

“My lord” Vaelin Al Sorna’s voice was harsh and thickly accented, his Alpiran had been learned in a dungeon and his tones were no doubt coarsened by years of shouting above the clash of weapons and screams of the fallen to win victory in a hundred battles, one of which had cost me my closest friend, and the future of this Empire

I turned to the captain “Why is he shackled? The Emperor ordered he be treated with respect”

“The people didn’t like seeing higested we shackle him to avoid trouble” Heed his wrists with scarred hands

“My lord!” a shout from the crowd I turned to see a portlytowards us, face ith unaccustomed exertion “A moment, please!”

The captain’s hand inched closer to his sabre but Al Sorna was unconcerned, s as the portly man approached “Governor Aruan”

The portlysweat from his face with a lace scarf In his left hand he carried a long bundle wrapped in cloth He nodded at the captain and myself but addressed hiain Are you well?”