Crypt of the Shadowking by Anthony Mark Page A

you.”
    “Oh, I remember you quite well, Caledan,” Cormik replied. He approached slowly, moving, despite his large girth, with the predatory grace of a cat. “In fact, after that last time we met, I remember that I wanted you dead.”
    Caledan laughed, as if he had just heard a good joke. “I would have thought you had forgotten that little misunderstanding by now, Cormik.”
    Cormik returned the laughter. “What a curious notion, Caledan. Gentlemen.” He made a brief motion with his hand. Before either Caledan or Mari could move, each was grabbed by one of the bodyguards, and their arms were tightly pinned behind their backs. Both Caledan and Man struggled, to no avail, while Cormik’s laughter filled the room.
    It appeared that they were prisoners.
     

Four
     
    “I thought you said the man adored you.”
    Cormik’s hulking bodyguards had chained the two of them to a cold stone wall in a dim, squalid little chamber beneath the Prince and Pauper.
    “Everyone’s entitled to a few mistakes,” Caledan muttered. His hands were chained over his head; his shoulders were throbbing painfully. His joints were getting far too rusty for this kind of abuse, and his brain must be getting rusty as well. He should not have assumed that Cormik would have forgotten their little “misunderstanding” of seven years ago. The proprietor of the Prince and Pauper was well known to have a long, keen memory. One had to in his business.
    “So what did you do, scoundrel, that he still holds a grudge against you after all these years?”
    “I saved him from being murdered by one of his patrons, that’s what,” Caledan replied angrily. “A nobleman named Maderon owed Cormik a king’s ransom in gambling debts, and he was going to have Cormik killed rather than pay up. I did Cormik the favor of doing away with Maderon first, though I had my own reasons. All Cormik knew was that I had slit the throat of his richest patron. Cormik’s an intelligent man, but he has me figured all wrong.”
    “What do you think he’s going to do with us?” she asked.
    “Kill us,” Caledan replied flatly.
    They were interrupted by the sound of the lock once again being turned. The iron-banded door flew open, and Caledan squinted as brilliant, golden light flooded the small prison chamber. After a moment his eyes adjusted, and he saw Cormik standing before him wearing an unsavory grin. He was flanked by his two bodyguards, as well as by a lanky young man with black hair and eyes.
    “I trust my retainers treated you well in my absence?” Cormik asked.
    “But of course.” Caledan rattled his chains, smiling facetiously. “You’re too good to your guests, Cormik.”
    Cormik bowed his head in acknowledgment, his one eye glittering. “Nothing is too good for an old … friend.”
    Caledan took a deep breath. “Cormik, if you’d just let me explain—”
    “Silence!” the man snapped. The bodyguards took a step forward, hands on the hilts of their short swords. Cormik held up a neatly manicured, ring-covered hand. “No, I shall deal with him in my own manner.” The hand dropped casually down to the hilt of a stiletto at his belt. The knife was a delicate, beautifully crafted thing with pale opals set into the hilt. “You may leave me, gentlemen. Dario and I will attend to business here.” The two bodyguards lumbered out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
    “Cormik,” Caledan tried again, forcing an expansive smile, “if you would just give me a chance to tell my side of the story, I’m sure—”
    “Spare me your lies, Caledan. I haven’t the time, and frankly neither do you or your friend here.” He smoothly slipped the jeweled stiletto out of its sheath. “Be so good as to help me with this, Dario.”
    The dark-haired young man grasped Caledan’s shackled wrist firmly. Caledan’s eyes widened. Mari stared at the scene in horror.
    “Cormik, please. ? you’d just—”
    “That’s the trouble with Harpers, Dario. They