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looked down at his bread, as if considering another bite, but he grimaced and put it away. “About the half-elf?” he said. “I don’t. Old leaf lover means nothing to me. But the Old Man … he’s gone mad. You know me, Kheil. I have no qualms about killing when there is profit in it, or a fair fight. But a bloodlust has seized the Old Man. He’s gone beyond simple murder-for-hire to massacres. The old fool is killing for pleasure or just plain meanness. He’s put our entire operation in jeopardy. Last winter, he killed three of our best clients—western nobles who paid well. But Talieth …”
    “What?” Berun cursed the eager tone in his voice. Very few days had gone by over the years that her face, her scent, the feel of her skin did not come to his mind, but every time he thrust them away. Kheil had loved her. And Kheil was dead.
    “Talieth suspects something darker is at work. She fears her father is on the verge of doing something … irreversible.” Sauk ground his jaw and looked away. His nostrils flared and he slapped the ground. “Damn it all, we want him dead.”
    Berun held Sauk’s gaze. The half-orc looked back, unflinching.
    “We?” said Berun.
    “Me, Talieth, and every man here. A few others at the Mountain.”
    “So kill him,” said Berun, his voice hard.
    Sauk snorted, but there was no humor in it. Only disgust. “We tried,” he said. “Talieth sent her best blades but the OldMan killed ’em all. The Old Man has been using your master’s power to set new guardians. Things I’ve never seen before. Things that haunt the dark places of the mountain. Things that scare even Talieth, and I’ve never seen anything frighten that woman.”
    A smile threatened to break over Berun’s face but he held it back.
    “But it doesn’t end there,” said Sauk. “The Old Man rooted out any who had colluded with the assassins. Didn’t just kill them. He tortured them. Till they begged for death. When we left the Fortress, their bodies were still on the walls. Some dead and rotting. Even the crows won’t touch them. But some … some were still alive.” He took a long swig from the waterskin and swallowed with a wince. “Wrapped in thorns and vines, bleeding, their skin rotting away even as they begged for someone to end their pain.”
    Berun shuddered. “Talieth …?”
    “The Old Man suspects her. He’s no fool. But she is his daughter. She’s still alive—or was when we left—but she walks the razor’s edge. She’s all but a captive in the Fortress, and the Old Man might kill her any time the whim hits him.”
    “How did you get away?”
    Sauk spared a glance at his men and a smile, sly and pleased, crossed his face. “Well, I said the Old Man rooted out the assassins. I should have said ‘any he could find.’ He found several. Too damned many. But not all.”
    “As far as you know,” said Berun.
    The grin froze on Sauk’s face, faltered, then fell. “Yes, as far as we know.”
    “So the Old Man could just be biding his time. Playing you like a cat pawing at a mouse.”
    Sauk’s eyes narrowed. “I’m no mouse.”
    “What about your men?”
    The tall blond man behind Sauk bristled and scowled at this, but he held his tongue.
    “You aren’t half as smart as you think you are,” said Sauk. “Talieth’s always had a gift for magic—more than a little touch of the seer’s gift.”
    “Don’t tell me what I already know,” said Berun.
    “Really?” Sauk’s eyebrows rose, but Berun saw the mockery in the expression.
“Kheil
knew Talieth well—in many senses of the word. Seems that Berun remembers. Maybe Kheil isn’t so dead after all, eh?”
    Berun didn’t respond.
    “Using her … gift, Talieth found you, whatever you choose to call yourself. She knew you were alive. But … well, it seems that leaf-loving master of yours doesn’t know how to hold his tongue.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean your old master talked. Sang like a damned minstrel for