The Order of Talos. Just the very name set his blood aflame, but Gabriel swallowed his fury, focused on control and did his very best to keep from gritting his teeth. He was only partially successful – Merasiël shot him a second glance, as did Rainald (who also gave him a questioning frown) and even silent Dane looked his way – but thankfully, Gestlin asked a stupid question, distracting the others long enough for the moment to pass. By the time the discussion came back to the Order, he was ready.

“They are responsible for Auqui’s fate,” he said simply, which was certainly true enough …

Four Years Ago

Even before he reached Whitehall Tower, Gabriel knew something was wrong.

It was the stillness in the air, the taste of death and blood that was so terribly familiar to him, and his natural instincts went into high alert almost immediately. He slid out of the saddle without thinking and gave Cometes a sharp hand gesture; the charger obeyed immediately, slipping into the concealing copse of trees where he could stay hidden. Not for the first time, Gabriel was grateful for the horse’s abnormal intelligence – this required stealth and the charger was ill equipped for that.

He found the first body just inside the tower grounds. The man was dressed in browns and greens of shades clearly intended to act as camouflage with the local terrain, but the bloody ruin that was the skulker’s throat clearly spoke of Kira. Ever since she’d begun learning the sword from him, the half-elf woman had favored throat strikes, which Gabriel found to be too messy. From where he knelt, in the shadows cast by the bell tower, he could see three other corpses. His instincts were screaming at him – entrance by the main path was suicide – so he retreated and swung around to one of his alternate routes. It was a narrow foot-path that curled up the primary hill and vanished into one of the larger archways. From there, he crept up the rudimentary steps carved out of the rock and exited into the stable. Inching forward, he lurked silently there for another long moment.

An owl hooted.

Freezing in place, Gabriel strained to find the source of the noise. One of the first things he’d done upon coming to this place was to familiarize himself with the local wildlife. Talon had even visited briefly and, after a week lurking, had provided a list of the animals in the immediate area. Owls were not among them.

A second owl answered the first and moments later, another man wearing the forest greens and browns slipped through the main gate (or rather, where the gate would be if he ever got around to building one.) This man was armed with a crossbow and wore a wide-bladed knife that was almost a shortsword at his side. A second man joined him, this one emerging from the kitchen. Both had a hard look to them but from the way they were trying to watch everything at once, Gabriel had to guess that they were spooked.

“What news?” the second man asked.

“Cristof has ordered us to pull out,” came the quick reply. “The assassin was sighted in Wallace the day before yesterday. He should be here tomorrow.”

“And that fool is just now letting us know?” The second man whistled sharply and immediately, another pair of men appeared in the doorways of the small fortress. “Gather your gear,” he ordered. “We’re leaving.”

The urge to act warred with the need for more information, and Gabriel grimaced. Were these men not armed with crossbows, he would think nothing of charging them and putting them all to the sword, but the crusade against the Vasar had showed him how lethal even poorly trained commoners could be with that weapon, so he remained hidden, watching quietly as the four rapidly assembled for departure. Their dead they left where they were – one stripped the corpses of purses and necklaces, but did not bother with their arms – and they filed out of Whitehall bare minutes later.

Gabriel was moving even before they were out of sight. He sprinted toward the stairs that led to the living quarters, keeping low and silent, and ducked through the smashed doorway to find another pair of bodies. As before, these two wore crimson smiles and he paused briefly to give one of them a second look. He knew this man but from where? It was of no matter. Pushing open the door to the main bedchamber, he froze.

Kira was there.

She was seated in her favorite chair, staring at nothing. At a glance, Gabriel could tell that she was dead – a quartet of crossbow bolts stood out from her chest and her throat had been cut – and for the span of a single heartbeat, his entire world narrowed to just her. She bore signs of physical abuse – not rape, but torture and plenty of it. They’d wanted something from her. His eyes narrowed. Auqui. Where was Auqui? He spent long minutes scouring the whole of the tower, but found no sign of the boy.

He caught up with the four men easily enough, but held back his murderous desire to simply pounce on them. Instead, he ranged around them, relying on his superior knowledge of the local environment and his own not inconsiderable talents at stealth. They helped him more than they knew, being so intent on speed that they neglected caution. Up the treacherous hill paths they went, feet pounding. It was tough going and the slowest of their number fell back.

So Gabriel killed him.

It was easy enough to accomplish – the murderer’s chest was heaving like a bellows and his head hung so low that he never saw death’s approach – and it momentarily assuaged the raging torrent of fury swimming in Gabriel’s heart. He slid behind the man, whipped Angrist free of its scabbard at the small of his back, and slit the man’s throat. It was messy, but he could do this for Kira. Clamping his hand over the dead murderer’s mouth to prevent him from crying out, Gabriel then plunged the elven knife into the man’s back. Once, twice, again. He felt his foe go limp and let him crumple to the ground.

None of the other men even glanced back or heard their companion’s death.

Gabriel waited until they were out of sight to quickly pat down his still dying victim. He tossed the crossbow and knife aside, divested the man of a coinpurse, and even tore a small crucifix free, but there was nothing on this fool that stood out. The necklace was of high quality – he had never seen this particular design, but that wasn’t a surprise – but wrought of simple copper; beyond that, the man wore no adornment. Shaking his head, Gabriel rose.

And resumed the hunt.

By the time he caught up with the remaining three, it was clear that they had finally noticed their brother’s absence. Speed was abandoned in favor of defense and the men moved slowly, crossbows strung and at the ready. Gabriel paced alongside them, his dark travel cloak concealing him, but he made no further move against them until night fell.

Dawn found him sitting among their corpses, clutching the three identical cross necklaces in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. The last of the men had already breathed his last and it was his words that made Gabriel tremble.

“Went with the master,” the man had gasped through the pain of his injuries. Before Gabriel started, the murderer had been confident he would never break, claiming that his faith in this … Order of Talos would grant him strength. The Order, he’d claimed, had already cleansed him of weakness and would lend him the fortitude to resist anything.

It hadn’t.

Gabriel rose, expression cold. His fury now battled against his fear – Auqui was still alive. No matter their many disagreements, the boy was still his responsibility and God help him, Gabriel had no plans in failing that. He would see to Kira’s body – she deserved that much – and then, he would hunt down every last one of these bastards. If they were so eager to meet God, then he would arrange the opportunity. This he vowed.

Three months later, he would look upon Auqui for the last time.