A Dance of Cloaks (Shadowdance) Page 0,3

hand on Aaron’s shoulder.

“You did well, my son,” he said. “My heir.”

“Thank you,” Aaron whispered, tears in his eyes. He bowed low as behind him the body of his brother bled out on the floor.

FIVE YEARS LATER…

CHAPTER

1

Aaron sat alone. The walls were bare wood. The floor had no carpet. There were no windows and only a single door, locked and barred from the outside. The silence was heavy, broken only by his occasional cough. In the far corner was a pail full of his waste. Thankfully, he had gotten used to the smell after the first day.

His new teacher had given him only one instruction: wait. He had been given a waterskin, but no food, no timetable, and worst of all, nothing to read. The boredom was far worse than his previous instructor’s constant beatings and shouts. Gus the Gruff he had called himself. The other members of the guild whispered that Thren had lashed Gus thirty times after his son’s training was finished. Aaron hoped his new teacher would be outright killed. Of all his teachers over the past five years, he was starting to think Robert Haern was the cruelest.

That was all he knew, the man’s name. He was a wiry old man with a gray beard curled around his neck and tied behind his head. When he’d led Aaron to the room, he had walked with a cane. Aaron had never minded isolation, so at first the idea of a few hours in the dark sounded rather enjoyable. He had always stayed in corners and shadows, greatly preferring to watch people talk than take part in their conversation.

But now? After spending untold hours, perhaps even days, locked in darkness? Even with his love of isolation and quiet, this was…

And then Aaron felt certain of what was going on. Walking over to the door, he knelt before it and pushed his fingers into the crack beneath. For a little while light had crept in underneath the frame, but then someone had stuffed a rag across it, completing the darkness. Using his slender fingers he pushed the rag back, letting in a bit of light. He had not done so earlier for fear of angering his new master. Now he couldn’t care less. They wanted him to speak. They wanted him to crave conversation with others. Whoever this Robert Haern was, his father had surely hired him for that purpose.

“Let me out.”

The words came out as a raspy whisper, yet the volume startled him. He had meant to boom the command at the top of his lungs. Was he really so timid?

“I said let me out,” he shouted, raising the volume tremendously.

The door opened. The light hurt his eyes, and during the brief blindness, his teacher slipped inside and shut the door. He held a torch in one hand and a book in the other. His smile was partially hidden behind his beard.

“Excellent,” Robert said. “I’ve only had two students last longer, both with more muscle than sense.” His voice was firm but grainy, and it seemed to thunder in the small dark room.

“I know what you’re doing,” Aaron said.

“Come now, what’s that?” the old man asked. “My ears haven’t been youthful for thirty years. Speak up, lad!”

“I said I know what you’re doing.”

Robert laughed.

“Is that so? Well, knowing and preventing are two different things. You may know a punch is coming, but does that mean you can stop it? Well, your father has told me of your training, so perhaps you could, yes, perhaps.”

As his eyes adjusted to the torchlight, Aaron slowly backed into a corner. With the darkness gone he felt naked. His eyes flicked to the pail in the corner, and he suddenly felt embarrassed. If the old man was bothered by the smell, he didn’t seem to show it.

“Who are you?” Aaron asked after the silence had stretched longer than a minute.

“My name is Robert Haern. I told you that when I first brought you in here.”

“That tells me nothing,” Aaron said. “Who are you?”

Robert smiled, just a flash of amusement on his wrinkled face, but Aaron caught it and wondered what it meant.

“Very well, Aaron. At one point I was the tutor of King Edwin Vaelor, but he has since gotten older and tired of my … corrections.”

“Corrections,” Aaron said, and it all confirmed what he’d guessed. “Was this my correction for not talking enough?”

To Aaron’s own surprise, Robert looked shocked.

“Correction? Dear lord, boy, no, no. I was told of your quiet nature, but