"Picture your life energy as a cord," Emelyn explained, "stretched taut from your head to your groin. Master Kane now holds that cord before him, and he can thrum it at will."

Entreri stared in disbelief at his forearm, and he winced, nauseous, as he began to recognize the subtle vibrations rolling throughout his body. He watched helplessly as Olwen pushed his dagger-arm out, then reached up and extracted himself from Entreri's grasp all together.

To the side, Kane calmly walked over to the fallen Charon's Claw. Entreri had a distant understanding of some satisfaction as the monk bent to retrieve it, thinking that the sentient, powerful, and malevolent weapon would melt Kane's soul, as it had so many who had foolishly taken it in hand.

Kane picked it up—his eyes widened in shock for just a moment. Then he shrugged, considered the weapon, and set it under the sash that tied his dirty robes.

Confusion mixed with outrage in the swirling thoughts of Artemis Entreri. He closed his eyes and growled, then forced himself against the intrusion. For a moment, a split second, he shook himself free, and he came forward awkwardly, as if to strike.

"Beware, King Artemis," Emelyn said, and there was indeed a hint of mocking in his voice, though Entreri was far too confused to catch the subtlety. "Master Kane can cut that cord. It is a terrible way to die."

As if on cue, and still long before Entreri had neared the pair, Kane spoke but a word, and wracking pains the likes of which Artemis Entreri had never imagined possible coursed through his body. Paralysis gripped him, as if his entire body twitched in the spasm of a single, complete muscle cramp.

He heard his dagger hit the floor.

He was hardly aware of the impact when he followed it down.

As he neared the audience chamber in his Bloodstone Village palace, King Gareth heard that the interrogation of Artemis Entreri had already begun. He glanced to his wife, who walked beside him, but Lady Christine stared ahead with that steely gaze Gareth knew so well. Clearly, she was not as conflicted about the prosecution of the would-be king as was he.

"And you claim to know nothing of the tapestries, or of the scroll we found on the fungus-fashioned throne?" he heard Celedon ask.

"Please, be reasonable," the man continued. "This could be exculpatory, to some extent."

"To make my death more pleasant?" Entreri replied, and Gareth winced at the level of venom in the man's voice.

He pushed into the audience chamber then, to see Entreri standing on the carpet before the raised dais that held the thrones. Friar Dugald and Riordan Parnell sat on the step, with Kane standing nearby. Celedon stood nearer to Entreri, pacing a respectfully wide circle around the assassin.

Many guards stood ready on either side of the carpet.

Dugald and Riordan stood up at the approach of the king and queen, and all the men bowed.

Gareth hardly noticed them. He locked stares with Entreri, and within the assassin's gaze he found the most hateful glare he had ever known, a measure of contempt that not even Zhengyi himself had approached. He continued to stare at the man as he assumed his throne.

"He has indicated that the tapestries were not of his doing," Friar Dugald explained to the king.

"And he professes no knowledge of the parchment," added Riordan.

"And he speaks truly?" asked Gareth.

"I have detected no lie," the priest replied.

"Why would I lie?" Entreri said. "That you might uncover it and justify your actions in your own twisted hearts?"

Celedon moved as if to strike the impertinent prisoner, but Gareth held him back with an upraised hand.

"You presume much of what we intend," the king said.

"I have seen far too many King Gareths in my lifetime…"

"Doubtful, that," Riordan remarked, but Entreri didn't even look at the man, his gaze locked firmly on the King of Damara.

"… men who take what they pretend is rightfully theirs," Entreri continued as if Riordan had not spoken at all—and Gareth could see that, as far as the intriguing foreigner was concerned, Riordan had not.

"Take care your words," Lady Christine interjected then, and all eyes, Entreri's included, turned to her. "Gareth Dragonsbane is the rightful King of Damara."

"A claim every king would need make, no doubt."

"Kill the fool and be done with it," came a voice from the doorway, and Gareth looked past Entreri to see Olwen enter the room. The ranger paused and bowed, then came forward, taking a route that brought him within a step of the captured man. He whispered something to Entreri as he passed, and did so with a smirk.

That smug expression lasted about two steps further, until Entreri remarked, "If you are to be so emotionally wounded when you are bested in battle, then perhaps you would do well to hone your skills."

"Olwen, be at ease," Gareth warned as he watched the volatile ranger's eyes go wide.

Olwen spun anyway, and from the way Celedon stepped aside, Gareth thought the man might leap onto Entreri then and there.

But Entreri merely snickered at him.

"We are reasonable men, living in dangerous times," Gareth said to Entreri when Olwen finally stepped aside. "There is much to learn—"

"You doubt my husband's claim to the throne?" Lady Christine interrupted.

Gareth put a hand on her leg to calm her.

"Your god himself would argue with me, no doubt," said Entreri. "As would the chosen god of every king."

"His bloodline is—" Christine started to reply.

"Irrelevant!" Entreri shouted. "The claim of birthright is a method of control and not a surety of justice."

"You impertinent fool!" Christine shouted right back, and she stood tall and came forward a step. "By blood or by deed—you choose! By either standard, Gareth is the rightful king."

"And I have intruded upon his rightful domain?"

"Yes!"

"King of Damara or King of Vaasa?"

"Of both!" Christine insisted.

"Interesting bloodline you have there, Gareth—"

Celedon stepped over and slapped him. "King Gareth," the man corrected.

"Does your heritage extend to Palishchuk?" Entreri asked, and Gareth could not believe how fully the man ignored Celedon's rude intrusion. "You are King of Vaasa by blood?"

"By deed," Master Kane said, and he stepped in front of the sputtering Dugald as he did.

"Then strength of arm becomes right of claim," reasoned Entreri. "And so we are back to where we began. I have seen far too many King Gareths in my lifetime."

"Someone fetch me my sword," said the queen.

"Lady, please sit down," Gareth said. Then to Entreri, "You were the one who claimed dominion over Vaasa, King Artemis."

The roll of Entreri's eyes strengthened Gareth's belief that the drow, Jarlaxle, had been the true instigator of that claim.

"I claimed that which I conquered," Entreri replied. "It was I who defeated the dracolich, and so…" He turned to Christine and grinned. "Yes, Milady, by deed, I claim a throne that is rightfully mine." He turned back to Gareth and finished, "Is my claim upon the castle and the surrounding region any less valid than your own?"

"Well, you are here in chains, and he is still the king," Riordan said.

"Strength of arms, Master Fool. Strength of arms."

"Oh, would you just let me kill him and be done with it?" Olwen pleaded.

To Gareth, it was as if they weren't even in the room.

"You went to the castle under the banner of Bloodstone," Celedon reminded the prisoner.

"And with agents of the Citadel of Assassins," Entreri spat back.

"And a Commander of the Army of Bl—"

"Who brought along the agents of Timoshenko!" Entreri snapped back before Celedon could even finish the thought. "And who betrayed us within the castle, at an hour most dark." He turned and squared his shoulders to Gareth. "Your niece Ellery was killed by my blade," he declared, drawing a gasp from all around. "Inadvertently and after she attacked Jarlaxle without cause—without cause for her king, but with cause for her masters from the Citadel of Assassins."