Shadow's Son Read Online Free PDF

parlor, dressed
in a gaudy teal robe splashed with tiny golden cranes. He was a heavyset man
past his middling years. He still had most of his hair and employed dyes to
keep it black and lustrous except for a pair of silver wings brushed back over
his ears. An admission of inevitability, he called them.
    "Our good friend returns from the north!"
    They shook hands, and Mathias offered him a choice of seats. Caim sat
down on a high-backed chair with no armrests or cushion.
    Mathias fetched a bottle and two glasses from a malachite sideboard.
"By the gods above and below, I am glad to see you back."
    "Blasphemy, Mat? At your age?"
    "Aye. I'm too old to care anymore what the Church thinks. What has
that prattle ever done for anybody? Nothing. But forget about that.
Everything went well, yes?"
    Caim accepted a glass of amber brandy and settled back into the hard
seat. "Well enough, although trying to get anywhere in this country is becoming a right pain in the ass. The roads are a mess and tollhouses have
sprung up over every hill."

    Mathias flumped onto a banquette and sloshed liquor on his expensive robe. "The realm is coming apart like an overripe melon. Every warlord who can put together a dozen half-trained men-at-arms is trying to
carve out a piece for himself. It's almost enough to make one long for the
good old days of imperial law and order. Almost."
    "Anyway, I stayed in Ostergoth long enough to hear the bells ring His
Grace's departure from the world of the living before I left."
    Mat lifted his glass. "To another job completed and another villain
vanquished."
    Caim took a sip before setting the glass down. "I've gathered there
was some trouble in town while I was away."
    "I had nothing to do with it." The rubies encrusting Mat's pinky ring
gleamed as he placed a plump hand over his flabby breast. "You know I
never touch that sort of smash-and-grab work. It's an unsavory business
and a trifle pathetic. Now we all have to suffer through a few weeks of
heightened security, but things will settle down. They can't stay on full
alert forever, eh? More brandy?"
    "I'll just have my fee and leave you in peace."
    Mathias smiled. "That's the man I know. All business-and business
is good!" He reached under his seat and tossed a bulging leather sack to
Caim. "Five hundred soldats, just as the contract stated."
    Caim caught the bag and slipped it into his shirt.
    "Not going to count it?"
    "No need to. I know where you live."
    "Right enough. You're acquiring quite a reputation, Caim. That's
why I know you're just the man for another job I'm sitting on."
    Caim rose to his feet. "No thank you, Mat. I don't want to see anything you're sitting on. That cushion looks like it's had enough."
    "It's not like you to pass up money, especially for a worthy cause."
    "I'm sure. Another priest with a fetish for children, or a landlord who
squeezes every last crumb from his destitute peasants. No thanks. I'm
going to take some time off. Like you said, the city's heating up."
    "That's why I'm turning to you, Caim. Believe me when I say this job
is easy. So easy you could do it blind and one-handed."

    "Not an image I want to ponder."
    Mathias brushed the air with his pudgy fingers. "You know what I
mean. But it has to be done fast."
    He headed for the door. "Sorry, Mat."
    "Caim, I'm desperate!"
    Caim stopped with his hand on the knob. Mathias wasn't a stranger
to theatrics, but he sounded genuinely worried, and Mathias Finneus
never worried. The look of relief on his face was almost comical as Caim
came back and stood by the high-backed chair.
    "What's the Job?"
    "Please, sit, my friend," Mathias urged. "More brandy?"
    "No more drinks. Tell me about the job."
    "It's very simple. One target, living in High Town."
    Calm's hand hovered over his glass, resting still on the table. "Inside
the city?"
    "Yes, you've done local work before."
    "Who is he?"
    "A retired general, a real hard case from what I've heard. He was