The Captive

Niklaus Hassrick stood at the window, gazing out over the vast acreage that had been in his family for generations. Years to build, he mused, and only a few moments to tear it all down. Behind him, he could hear his mother weeping softly, hear his father's voice as he tried to comfort her. They had both aged in the last few days. Well, he thought bleakly, so had he.

Drade had returned to Daccar.

Upon learning that Niklaus couldn't make good on his promise to deliver the crystals or repay his debt, Brezor had sent his agent to inform Rugen that he had ten days to vacate the premises. It had all come out then, all the dirty little secrets Niklaus had tried to hide.

"Why, Niklaus?"

The sound of his mother's voice, asking the same question yet again, was more than he could bear. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the room.

Drade was out of reach, but he knew where Falkon had gone. If he hurried, he could be there, waiting, when he arrived.