The sound of May''s bray wakes me and I find myself sitting on the driver''s seat of my carriage, reins in hand yet about to slip out.


    I must have closed my eyes on my way back home but I don''t remember even feeling tired.


    At a crawl, the carriage meanders down the dark street, the wheels squeaking like a nest of mice.


    I remember endless clouds saw me off when I left Lorma''s home. Now the stars shine brightly down, Fey''s star twinkling warmly as it always does on a clear night.


    How long did I doze off for?


    Not the smartest of actions, Pannor, I say to myself, as the feeling of being watched creeps through my thoughts and wriggles through my veins.


    And as a cold shiver slithers over my body, I swing my head around, looking to see a figure in the shadows, but there''s nobody.


    With a harmless whip of the reins, as if I''m giving an eager pat, May speeds to a trot. And as I continue towards home, the demand that the king placed on me earlier in the day begins weighing down.


    Surely I can''t be the last resort of our people, of this kingdom. How am I to convince King Jabora to end the war, to let us be? I''m a man of action not words. I am no diplomat with a silver tongue.


    Maybe I am a legend to our enemy, the emissary at the celebration at the palace telling me such, but I''m not the right man for this. My hatred for the enemy, I have no doubt, will ruin my attempt at diplomacy.


    But perhaps my meeting is of a nefarious nature, a plot thought up by Sir Blouf and the enemy. Could I be walking to my death?


    This is a fallacy by the king but I''ll do my duty as always. And if I die, I will take as many as I can with me. That is for sure.


    My home calls at me like a lighttower in rough seas. It beckons me as much as Fey''s star above. Owing to the attempts on my life, I should never set foot near it again but it''s the only place I feel comfort, relative ease. It was the last place I saw Fey alive and I will not have my life dictated by fiends.


    Yet I do take precautions, halting the carriage several streets away at the end of my travels through the city.


    If the Night Cleaver, my attacker, is waiting for me, I don''t want to flaunt my arrival.


    Once May is free from her harness, I begin skulking back home, keeping my ears open, my eyes peeled and my wits about me. It doesn''t help that every umbra I see stops me in my tracks.


    I''m rounding a corner when suddenly I hear the clack of a heel behind me, just steps away.


    Is this it?


    As fast as a skipping stone, I spin around expecting to see the face of terror, the face of my nightmares. Instead, it''s Trin clad in black, a woolen cap on her head.


    Her hand is quick to muffle my outburst of fright, my anticipated and sadly meagre last intake of breath.


    ''Sorry for startling you, Pannor,'' she whispers, ''but I''m glad I found you. I was on my way to your house when I saw you.'' She takes her hand away from my mouth.


    ''You could have called out for me instead of almost putting me in my grave from shock,'' I talk softly back.


    ''I''m sorry again, but I don''t know who could be around listening.''


    There''s a seriousness in her tone but it doesn''t surprise me.


    ''Like who?'' I ask, lowering and cocking my head. ''What is it, Trin?''


    ''I was at Sir Blouf''s residence not that long ago when I saw a figure lurking nearby.''


    ''Was it Sir Blouf? What was he doing?''


    ''It wasn''t Sir Blouf. The king''s advisor was inside taking a shit. And the figure just seemed to be waiting.''


    ''Waiting for what?''


    ''It seemed like they were making sure nobody was around.''


    ''What did they look like?''


    ''I couldn''t tell you.'' Trin raises her hands to the skies. ''It was dark.''


    ''Are they there now?''


    Trin shakes her head in disappointment. ''Sorry, Pannor, but I tried getting closer to whoever it was but they heard me coming and ran off. My spying, creeping skills have decreased since I last did this. It has been long. I tried chasing them but they ran like the wind. They almost ran as fast as you did before the injury to your leg. I couldn''t catch up.'' The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ''Who the fuck could it have been?'' I start aloud before ending in a murmur.


    ''You have no idea? Pannor, what the hell is this all about? If I''m going to continue with this, with what you have asked of me, I need to know. If I''m in danger from whatever this is, I need to know. It is only right.''


    ''Trin–''


    ''Tell me now or I''m out. You can find someone else to shadow Sir Blouf. I could be back home with a beautiful woman wrapped around my legs.''


    There''s nobody else like Trin.


    ''Fine,'' I say, ''but you can''t tell anyone. I mean it, Trin. No blabbering to your lady friends.''


    ''I used to be a spy, Pannor,'' she replies. ''I know how to keep quiet. Remember I was almost beaten to death and my lips never moved.''


    ''Yes, you''re right. And I remember that.'' I nod my head. ''I will tell you. I believe Sir Blouf is working with the enemy.''


    Trin presses her lips together before bursting out, ''That fucking pile of shit.''


    ''But I don''t know for sure, Trin.''


    ''Your hunches rarely turn out otherwise.''


    ''But they do.''


    Trin lifts her finger. ''Maybe this figure I saw was trying to contact Sir Blouf.''


    ''That is a possibility. Trin, you need to go back to Sir Blouf''s residence and see if the figure returns.''


    ''Would they be stupid enough to do that?'' Trin asks.


    ''If it''s the enemy,'' I reply, ''then yes.''


    ''I''ll be on my way.''


    ''Do you have any weapons on you?''


    With a flourish, and as fast as I could ever unsheath a sword, Trin pulls out two stiletto blades, holds them out for me to see before making them vanish again.


    ''Good,'' I continue. ''And if the figure does come back, you have the permission of the sheriff to use them to incapacitate.''


    ''Yes, Pann–''


    A yell punctures the air around us, whipping through the street like a winter chill. Trin and I swivel our heads in its direction.


    ''What the fuck was that?'' grunts Trin.


    ''It sounded like a lawman on patrol,'' I reply. ''I hope he hasn''t found anything.''


    My bones stiffen at the thought of what it could be.


    Has the Night Cleaver struck again?


    With a deep breath, I begin dragging my feet towards the disturbance, Trin shuffling beside me.


    We reach the end of the street when I see the faint bubble of light emanating between tall beanstalks growing inside a park. Once within, we weave our way through the monstrous crop until we come out at the other end.


    We stop in our tracks at the scene, Trin gasping in horror.


    The light is from a lawman''s box lamp. And its owner, not one of my men, stands petrified over the mangled body of a woman.


    ''Officer,'' I say calmly.


    The lawman drops the lamp in surprise.


    ''Who''s there?'' He shrieks. Then scurrying to pick up the lamp, he says, ''Identify yourself or else.''


    ''Calm yourself, lawman,'' I reply. ''It''s Sheriff Harg. And I''m with a companion.''


    Grabbing the lamp, the lawman raises it, shining it on Trin and I. ''Sheriff Harg, thank the gods it''s you. I just found her like this.''


    With Trin following behind, I close in. ''What''s your name, officer?''


    ''It''s Alup,'' he says. ''Alup Jinnseng, sir.''


    I glare down at the body. A mass of blood glistens under the light, giving off faint wisps of steam.


    ''The wounds are fresh, the body still warm,'' I say as I hear Trin begin to shudder. ''Her murder was very recent. Alup, how was she found?''


    ''I was walking past the park, on patrol,'' replies the lawman, ''when I heard something. I came inside and that''s when I found her. Is this the doing of the Night Cleaver, sir?''


    With the numerous wounds, I have no doubt.


    ''It seems so,'' I reply. ''Hmmm, I wonder what the woman was doing out at this time?''


    ''Could have just gone for a stroll, Pannor,'' Trin murmurs.


    ''Knowing the Night Cleaver has returned? Madness.''


    ''Sometimes people just need to go for a stroll in peace.''


    I understand, and I''m never the one to blame the victim, but she should have known the risk.


    I shake my head at the unnecessary loss of life and stare at the body for a while before saying, ''I''ll get my carriage. And once the body''s inside, ready for transportation, we can sweep the park for clues. I''ll like to get my men to come and help too.''


    ''Give me something to do, Pannor,'' Trin quivers. ''I''ll get the carriage and your men too. Just tell me where they live. I''ll be quick.''


    ''Quicker than me. Thank you, Trin. You''ll need my donkey, May, for the carriage. I''ll call for her now.''


    I''m just about to whistle when my gaze hurtles past Alup and through the beanstalks.


    I see something. Someone. A figure stands in the shadows of a mouth of an alleyway across the street from the park.


    Pointing, I whisper, ''Don''t move your light, Alup, but there''s someone over there.''


    ''Where?'' Trin breathes softly, ''I can''t see him.''


    ''You must. He''s right there. Where I''m pointing. Inside that alleyway.''


    Without warning, Trin flashes her stiletto blades and bounds into the beanstalks.


    ''Shit,'' I burst out before turning to Alup. ''Stay here. Do not leave the body. You hear?''


    ''Yes, sir,'' Alup answers.


    I run after Trin, diving into the beanstalks, but she''s too fast and I quickly lose sight of her.


    Bursting out into the street, my sight narrows onto the entrance to the alleyway. The figure''s gone and Trin seems to have vanished out of thin air.


    ''Trin,'' I call out, scrambling to the alleyway. ''Trin!''


    She doesn''t respond.


    Pitch black hails my arrival into the dirt covered strait. It''s so dark that I can''t see my hands in front of me. I barely have room to wield my sword.


    Creeping into the depths, I call out again, ''Trin?''


    The only response is the clacking of my heels.


    A bend in the alleyway signals me to slow my pace even more. I raise my sword higher and inch along until I reach the corner, stopping. Then as fast as I can move, I lunge around, prepared for a fight, but nothing attacks.


    It''s lighter further down, the alleyway ending and opening onto another street. I head towards it. But it''s then that I tread into something with a soft thud.


    Please no, I say to myself, glaring down at a dark shape stretched across the path.


    ''Trin?'' I breathe.


    I drop to my knees, releasing the grip on my sword, and feel around, hoping the Night Cleaver hasn''t struck again. All I hear is my heart race and I touch cloth. I delicately move my hands more, expecting to feel skin, to the feel the face of Trin, but it doesn''t come.


    I then grab a handful of cloth, my fingers poking through numerous holes, and realize it''s some sort of bag, an old vegetable sack perhaps left to rot in the alleyway.


    Relief slowly eases within. But where''s Trin?


    ''Trin!'' I yell.


    I grip my sword again and struggle to my feet. I raise my head and see a figure drop down before me.


    ''Sheriff,'' it says, causing me to stagger.


    ''Fuck, Trin,'' I pant, ''You almost put me in my grave again. Where were you?''


    ''I just wanted to get a better vantage point. See if I could see the Night Cleaver. I climbed up to the roofs.''


    ''And?''


    ''Nothing. He must have fled.''


    ''Shit!''


    So much for going back home tonight.


    After calling on my men and helping them rummage around the park for clues, I take the body back to Lorma''s and down to the cellar, placing her next to Able. Then I realize it''s just hours before I must leave for the siege line, to meet King Jabora, and I start gathering provisions.