By ed. by Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey
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They were black, black like Terrel's, but ... She reached out and grabbed the goblet. His eyes, they were like weap- ons, spearing her, attacking everything they focused on, jabbing about, terrifying. She put the goblet down in front of her. It was bent, imprinted by his fingers when he had crushed it, unknowing. But Sarah did not see that. All she could see were those two black eyes. Several days later Cade sat on a stone bench in the small courtyard behind Terrel's house sharpening his sword.
Toth worshiped Cade. For him, his uncle was a great warrior from one of the tales he'd once heard Hakiem tell in the Bazaar. But Sarah knew better. She had an idea now what Terrel had meant when he'd said Cade wasn't really a warrior. The man was a killer as sure as the sea is blue. It was all so confusing. As much as Cade scared her, still he was kind in his own way, but not as Terrel had been. It wasn't gentleness; he was always grim. But he seemed so sad. Last night Dru had cried in her sleep calling for her Da; and when Sarah had gone to check on her she found Cade there soothing the child.
The control areas changed daily, hourly. " Sarah's face was pale and her lips trembled, but she could think of noth- ing to say. " He waited but she was still silent. " "Because he was killed here, while you were sleeping. Yet you and the children never woke. Why? Magic-possibly. A sleeping draught-less likely. No one, anywhere, heard a sound the whole time Terrel was dying. " He shook his head. "A lot of effort. Why not just kidnap him, take him somewhere else, interrogate him there? But, no, they did it here, there- fore it had to be for one of two reasons: to set an example, or to exact revenge.
Aftermath by ed. by Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey