Twilight's Dawn

should be there to watch his back.”
    “He doesn’t need a second-in-command,” Daemon crooned. “Lucivar has family.”

TWELVE

    L ucivar put a sight shield around himself the instant he dropped from the Ebon-gray Wind and glided toward Agio. His psychic probes revealed nothing out of the ordinary, and his view of the countryside below showed him a village with streets cleared of snow, smoke rising from chimneys, and people going about their business.
    *Lord Randahl?* Lucivar called on a psychic thread.
    *Prince Yaslana? May I be of service?*
    *No, I was just flying over the northern end of the valley. Anything I should know about?*
    *We haven’t seen the Eyriens these past couple of days. I guess they’re packing up. So it’s been quiet around here and in the landen village too. We took a look around there this morning.* Randahl paused. *Didn’t check out the other landen villages in the north, though. I was planning to send some men out tomorrow. Should I send them out now?*
    *No need. I’ll fly over. If I see anything that needs your attention, I’ll let you know. Otherwise, a visit tomorrow will be fine.*
    Lucivar broke contact and flew toward the mountains and the other landen villages. No sign of trouble, fighting, or any kind of attack. No sign of Jhinkas. Pumping his wings to fly higher, Lucivar caught an air current and rode it back to where the Eyriens had gathered. He studied the men—and the killing field—below him.
    No fighting. No sign of dead or wounded. A handful of Eyriens with bows were hidden among a tumble of boulders that were distant enough that a person approaching on the ground wouldn’t consider those boulders part of the killing field.
    But he did now, and as he rode the currents, he considered the shape and the boundaries of the killing field—and the honor of the men who were waiting for him.
    He descended into the abyss to the level of his Ebon-gray Jewels and waited for the Eyriens to arrive from Riada. When he spotted them leisurely gliding toward the other men, he caught the Red Wind, headed south for a few minutes, then turned and headed back. Removing the sight shield, he dropped from the Winds and glided down to the same spot they had.
    They saw him coming and began moving into position. If he hadn’t seen the archers, it would look like the men were simply shifting to give him room to backwing and land. Since he had seen the men hidden among the boulders, he knew the spot they had chosen was the only place that gave all the archers a clean line of attack.
    Lucivar landed. The other Eyriens closed around him in a half circle, leaving the archers’ side open.
    He took a careful look at men who were now the enemy. Hallevar wasn’t among them. Neither was Kohlvar, Rothvar, Zaranar, or Endar. Neither was the youngster Tamnar or the handful of other Eyrien Warlords from Riada who had wanted to work for him.
    “I gave you a chance to build a new life, and this is your choice?” Lucivar asked quietly.
    “When Falonar rules this valley, we’ll have more,” one of them said.
    “You’re not going to follow the Blood’s code of honor and invite me to step onto the killing field?”
    “Honor doesn’t apply to a half-breed bastard.”
    Old heart wounds, old painful memories, and old anger rose with him to the killing edge. “Then there is nothing left to say.” Lucivar smiled a lazy, arrogant smile. “Go ahead. Since I’ll be taking the last one, you can have the first blow.”
    Five arrows hit the shields on his left leg between knee and ankle.
    Lucivar spun before the other Eyriens thought to move. As he spun, he called in his bow, already nocked. A ball of Ebon-gray-fueled witchfire formed around the arrowhead as he drew the bowstring back and released it the moment his spin aligned him with the boulders. As he finished the spin, he vanished the bow and called in his war blade.
    His arrow hit the boulders, and the witchfire exploded with a furious heat that cracked the boulders and charred the marrow in the bastards’ bones before they had time to fall.
    A heartbeat of stunned silence. Then the rest of the Eyrien warriors threw themselves at him, and the fight began.

    Surreal walked into The Tavern and looked around. No more than a dozen people sitting at tables, grabbing an early midday meal.
    “Gentlemen,” she said, using Craft to enhance her voice. “If you have children, you will fetch them from school and take them home. If your wives are out