Chapter oneA wild dark streak haunted the reputation of the Vorner family down through the generations and many times in their turbulent history dishonor stained their family name. Young Tralgan, son of Lord Nalgre Vorner, radiated a sunny disposition that charmed all who came into contact with him, so that folk said perhaps the black blood had at last all been drained away.
Here, under the battlements of the gate leading up to the castle, Tralgan stared sickly upon the dozen crossbows aimed for his heart.
“Do not move, Tralgan! The Judge will have no compunction in ordering the crossbowmen to loose.”
The saturnine features of the Judge confirmed with chilling authority what Ornol Lodermair said was true. He and the Judge stood side by side under the shadows of the arched gateway. The g
