bolt as Lucky emerged from his room holding a brightly glowing glass vial high in his left hand and a long knife in his right. Abigail stood in the doorway to their room dressed only in her nightgown but with her short bow in hand and an arrow nocked and ready.
Anatoly growled into the sudden silence, “How many men do you have with you?”
The man pinned to the table sputtered, “No one else … just me … don’t kill me … I’ve come to help you.” His words tumbled out quickly.
Anatoly grunted, obviously not convinced.
Alexander relaxed his vision. What he saw surprised him. The intruder’s colors were those of a good man, perhaps even a fiercely good man. He saw loyalty, reverence for life, and courage. He also saw that the man was telling the truth.
“Anatoly, let him up,” Alexander said quietly. Anatoly looked to him for confirmation. He nodded slowly. “It’s okay … I don’t believe he’s a threat.”
Anatoly grunted again. “That remains to be seen,” he said as he released the intruder while still pointing his long dagger at the man’s chest. Anatoly stepped back and allowed the man to stand while deftly removing the intruder’s knife from his belt.
The intruder looked straight at Alexander, “You would be Darius Valentine, yes?”
Anatoly tossed the intruder’s knife away and grabbed him again by the throat. His long dagger pierced the intruder’s tunic right over his heart and he pressed the point against him firmly enough to draw just a drop of blood.
“Choose your next words very carefully.” Anatoly was in a foul mood.
Before the intruder could speak, Alexander asked, “How do you know my brother’s name?” Abigail came up alongside him, tension still on the string of her short bow.
“Your brother … but you bear the mark.” He looked genuinely confused, but only for a moment before a look of sadness came over him. “Your brother is dead then.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of realization.
Abigail repeated the question with a hard edge to her voice. “How do you know my brother’s name?”
He looked back to Anatoly who still held him by the throat with a long knife to his heart, then back to Alexander and Abigail. “It’s somewhat of a long story and we haven’t the time at the moment. There is a small contingent of Reishi Protectorate in Southport and they are aware of your presence. They’re searching for you and will likely find you soon. We must flee if you are to have any hope of living through the day.”
Alexander shook his head slowly. “You still haven’t answered my question and we aren’t going anywhere until you do.”
The intruder looked at the resolve in Alexander’s face and nodded stiffly. “I could explain more easily if you would kindly let go of my throat.” He forced a smile as he looked at Anatoly.
Anatoly looked to Alexander, who nodded. Anatoly released him again, still pointing his long dagger at the intruder’s heart.
The man stood, made a brief show of brushing himself off, turned to Alexander and Abigail bowing deeply and said, “My Lord and Lady Valentine, I am Master Bard Jack Colton and I am at your service.”
He stood six feet tall and looked to weigh about 160 pounds. He had dirty-blond hair, a fair complexion, and piercing blue eyes the color of the top of the sky a moment after the sun sets. He was altogether too good-looking and possessed a kind of charisma that was a mixture of youthful charm tempered by the confidence of more real-world experience than someone his age ought to have. His clothes were simple and ordinary. His way of speaking and his bearing were not.
“Since the time of the Reishi War,” Jack began, “the Bard’s Guild has passed the story of the Marked One from one generation to the next. When my father told me the story, I set out on a quest to find the true bloodline, your bloodline, which led me to House of Valentine. When I discovered the truth of your line a few years ago, I
Anatoly growled into the sudden silence, “How many men do you have with you?”
The man pinned to the table sputtered, “No one else … just me … don’t kill me … I’ve come to help you.” His words tumbled out quickly.
Anatoly grunted, obviously not convinced.
Alexander relaxed his vision. What he saw surprised him. The intruder’s colors were those of a good man, perhaps even a fiercely good man. He saw loyalty, reverence for life, and courage. He also saw that the man was telling the truth.
“Anatoly, let him up,” Alexander said quietly. Anatoly looked to him for confirmation. He nodded slowly. “It’s okay … I don’t believe he’s a threat.”
Anatoly grunted again. “That remains to be seen,” he said as he released the intruder while still pointing his long dagger at the man’s chest. Anatoly stepped back and allowed the man to stand while deftly removing the intruder’s knife from his belt.
The intruder looked straight at Alexander, “You would be Darius Valentine, yes?”
Anatoly tossed the intruder’s knife away and grabbed him again by the throat. His long dagger pierced the intruder’s tunic right over his heart and he pressed the point against him firmly enough to draw just a drop of blood.
“Choose your next words very carefully.” Anatoly was in a foul mood.
Before the intruder could speak, Alexander asked, “How do you know my brother’s name?” Abigail came up alongside him, tension still on the string of her short bow.
“Your brother … but you bear the mark.” He looked genuinely confused, but only for a moment before a look of sadness came over him. “Your brother is dead then.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of realization.
Abigail repeated the question with a hard edge to her voice. “How do you know my brother’s name?”
He looked back to Anatoly who still held him by the throat with a long knife to his heart, then back to Alexander and Abigail. “It’s somewhat of a long story and we haven’t the time at the moment. There is a small contingent of Reishi Protectorate in Southport and they are aware of your presence. They’re searching for you and will likely find you soon. We must flee if you are to have any hope of living through the day.”
Alexander shook his head slowly. “You still haven’t answered my question and we aren’t going anywhere until you do.”
The intruder looked at the resolve in Alexander’s face and nodded stiffly. “I could explain more easily if you would kindly let go of my throat.” He forced a smile as he looked at Anatoly.
Anatoly looked to Alexander, who nodded. Anatoly released him again, still pointing his long dagger at the intruder’s heart.
The man stood, made a brief show of brushing himself off, turned to Alexander and Abigail bowing deeply and said, “My Lord and Lady Valentine, I am Master Bard Jack Colton and I am at your service.”
He stood six feet tall and looked to weigh about 160 pounds. He had dirty-blond hair, a fair complexion, and piercing blue eyes the color of the top of the sky a moment after the sun sets. He was altogether too good-looking and possessed a kind of charisma that was a mixture of youthful charm tempered by the confidence of more real-world experience than someone his age ought to have. His clothes were simple and ordinary. His way of speaking and his bearing were not.
“Since the time of the Reishi War,” Jack began, “the Bard’s Guild has passed the story of the Marked One from one generation to the next. When my father told me the story, I set out on a quest to find the true bloodline, your bloodline, which led me to House of Valentine. When I discovered the truth of your line a few years ago, I
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