Free The Lords of Valdeon by C. R. Richards Page A

over the small band of light coming from under her door.
    "Mother? Why didn’t you answer me earlier?"
    He tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open. Interrupted in her packing, his mother's things had been strewn about in piles of chaotic clutter. Her trunk was open, dresses and her cloak had been scattered upon the floor next to it. Anne McCloud lay on the bed wearing her best gown. Her dark hair streamed across the fabric. The glossy wood of her treasured Valdeonian guitar rested upon her chest. His mother’s face was pale and her lips were an odd blue color. Something was clenched in her cold hand. Seth moved to her side with unsteady legs. His own hand reached for her dead fingers, prying away a tiny glass vile. Eyes locked upon her blue lips, he put the vile in his pocket and sat down in the rocking chair across from the bed.
    The bedchamber door slammed shut. Seth turned in a slow daze at the noise. Standing beside his mother’s wardrobe was the Dagger. His thick cloak opened exposing a naked sword. The blade twisted slowly in its master’s hand.
    "I underestimated you, boy. You escaped those bumbling idiots with just a few scratches. Let me guess, you rescued the girl as well. Of course you did. It’s in your half-breed blood. You can’t help but play the hero."
    "Did you do this to my mother?" Seth managed to stand.
    "Your mother married outside her race and then came you." He spat upon the floor between them. "I’ve watched this house for years. Anne grew more unhappy each day. You were such a burden for her."
    "No. You're wrong. She loved me." Seth shook his head. "We're leaving together."
    "What a fool you are, boy. Do you honestly think either of you would be welcome? Who do you think sent me here? Your family wants you dead." The blade's tip lifted until it was level with Seth's chest. "I have given your mother peace. Now I can finally be rid of you."
    Seth yelped when his mother’s dead hand brushed against his own. Anne McCloud had been a kind and loving woman. He had no doubts in his heart about her feelings toward her son. It was the only thing he didn't doubt now.
    "I had hoped to make your mother’s death look like suicide, but you’ve necessitated a change to my plans. How shall I finish the job, I wonder? The sword? No, we don’t want that fool of a constable to suspect foul play." The Dagger’s masked face tilted until the white blade was at an awkward slant. "What a tragedy for the crippled old headmaster! He comes home to find his household struck down by a mysterious illness. What a pity. Poor man."
    Reaching his gloved hand inside the dark folds of his cloak, the Dagger pulled out a small vial matching the one hidden in Seth's pocket. A sickly green liquid splashed inside as he shook it gently. Such a small concoction, yet it had utterly ruined his life.
    "The mastery of poisons is a proud tradition in my family. Century upon century we have developed the skill of assassination to an art form. I am their finest son." He lifted up the tiny vial, examining it fondly like a master craftsman. "This gem is very special. The Tslavian hillside beside my home is the only place this rare and deadly plant grows. It was once called ‘Love’s Bonnet’ until my great, great grandmother discovered its deadlier purpose. She first used it to seek revenge upon her faithless lover. Ah yes, this special plant is now called, ‘Devil’s Cape.’ One simply must pluck the young leaves off the plant before it flowers, mash them, and boil slowly until you have this concoction. Of course the real trick is not poisoning yourself by touching the juices."
    The dark mask lowered to fix upon Seth once more. "Your mother was well versed in its use."
    Seth’s eyes were irresistibly drawn back to the woman he thought he knew. She had been a tireless supporter of the poor and a friend to every soul on Marianna. The thought of her creating such an awful substance was inconceivable.
    "Now drink this like a good