Crypt of the Shadowking Read Online Free PDF Page A

guard, swords raised and glittering in the sun. The guards did not need to warn the onlookers to keep out of their way. Behind them came a standard-bearer, holding aloft the banner of Iriaebor: the tower, river, and—now—crimson moon.
    A small, wiry man clad in robes of a sickly, poisonous green came into view, riding a soot-colored gelding. The man’s dark hair was cropped close to his head, adding to the severity of his sharp features. His eyes glittered in the ruddy sunlight like small black stones. Folk bowed their heads as he reverently passed them by.
    “That’s Lord Cutter?” Caledan asked the merchant in a low voice, but the fellow shook his head.
    “Naw, that’s the lord steward. They call him Snake. Name suits him, I suppose. There’s venom in that one’s heart, no doubt. But he’s more Cutter’s lapdog than he is a viper.”
    Caledan nodded, but before he could ask another question there was a second fanfare of trumpets. A tall figure clad in dark leather and a cloak of deep crimson rounded the corner and rode down the avenue astride a glossy, jet-black palfrey. Shoulder length hair of pale spun gold shone brightly in the sun.
    “Now that,” said the merchant, “is City Lord Cutter.”
    Caledan felt his heart lurch in his chest. A loud rushing sound filled his ears, and he gripped Mista’s reins tightly with white-knuckled hands. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
    The woman called Cutter was beautiful. Her eyes were a dusky blue like the evening sky, and her face was smooth and moon-pale, her strong, fine features better hewn of marble than flesh. But it was not this revelation that made Caledan’s heart stop in his chest.
    “Ravendas,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
    “Hey, friend, you’d better bow your head if you don’t want the guards to notice you,” the merchant whispered hoarsely. “They’ll haul you off to the dungeons, they will.”
    Caledan didn’t move. He could only watch as the woman who now called herself Cutter rode with her lord steward through the waiting gates of the tower. The gates swung shut with a sound as vast as thunder. She was gone. As though suddenly released from a spell, Caledan shook his head, trying to swallow the hot bile in his throat. Somehow he had always known he would meet her again. His old enemy. The Zhentarim, Lord Ravendas.
    “It looks like we’ll be staying a while after all, old friend,” Caledan said softly, stroking the gray mare’s silky mane. Dusk was drifting down like fine, purple dust among the towers as he rode toward a shadowed section of the Old City. Seeing Ravendas had changed everything. Caledan couldn’t leave, not now. He had to find out what his old enemy was up to, and there was an old acquaintance of his on the Street of Jewels who just might be able to help him find out—for the right price, of course.
    He had nearly reached his destination when he realized he was being followed.
    Caledan had to admit, his dark-cloaked pursuer was skilled, walking down the street after him with a perfect imitation of aimlessness. However, Caledan had played the game enough times himself to know all the tricks.
    He rode onward casually, keeping watch on his pursuer out of the corner of his eye. If he remembered this part of the city correctly, he knew of a place where he might be able to arrange a little surprise for his mysterious shadow. He guided the mare down a narrow side street, for the moment cutting off his pursuer’s line of sight. He nudged Mista’s flanks, and she leaped into a canter, her hooves clattering metallically on the crumbling paving stones.
    “Run for a short distance, then wait for me,” Caledan whispered into Mista’s ear. The horse snorted softly, her ears twitching. Whether it was his words or tone she understood, Caledan could not say, but he knew that she would do his bidding.
    As the horse raced on he stood up in the stirrups. He tensed his body and sprang upward. His big hands caught on to a stone ledge