CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO- Epilogue

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Torren looked up from the bar as the man closed the door behind him, returning the room to its muted half-light. The man himself was as much a mystery as his reason for seeking out what most thought was just another ale-house before the sun had even cleared the horizon. Unlike the occasional drunkard that stumbled in as dawn broke the man was well dressed, though simply, in tight long-sleeved shirt and loose trousers of the same dark blue material. The same simple professionalism applied to the man himself, clean shaven with short but neat dark blond hair and intelligent eyes. Whoever he was he certainly didn't fit in with the drunks and thieves that usually inhabited the space. Torren gave a friendly smile as the man approached the bar, the guise of friendly barkeep fitting easily over that of owner of the thieves' guilds largest den.

'Late night or early morning?' He asked cheerfully, reaching for the nearest relatively clean tankard. To his surprise the man shook his head, waving the drink away with a smile.

'Just came to talk is all. City is falling apart up there and here seemed as good as place as any to work through it.' The man's voice was softer than he had expected, clear and calm but with an air of quiet confidence.

'Well if you're looking to talk politics you've come to the wrong place. Even if there was anyone here at this hour I doubt they could tell you anything you don't already know.' His tone was firm but the man gave a light-hearted laugh all the same.

'Well I don't believe that for a second,' the man replied, the same knowing smile still spread across his face. 'After all, you know more about our new king and how he got there than anyone outside the throne-room, save maybe for that lot that damn near burned down the castle. Who would have thought that high advisor Trau was next in line to the throne?'

Torren hesitated, choosing his words carefully. 'And who was it that told you that? I can assure you they are mistaken.'

'Oh he was a fine lad,' the man drawled in a familiar mocking tone and a fiendish grin. 'Devilishly handsome and strong as an ox. I hear he can walk through walls and disappear into the night itself. Surely it was an honour to have known such a man.'

A smile split Torren's face as he struggled with whether to hug his friend or hit him over the head with his cane. In the end, he chose the stream of questions that pushed their way into his mind.

'Lohan! That is you right? What in hells happened, I heard you killed the king! What happened at Trau's manor? And what happened to the mask? The hair?'

Callen help up a hand to stall him. 'I'm trying something different. As far as Lohan, he's dead and it is probably for the best if he stays that way. I'm assuming you know I didn't kill the last king.'

'Of course I know you didn't kill the damn king!' Torren snapped. 'Though there aren't many people who would agree with me on that. They are saying you got sick of stealing and tried your hand at assassination.'

Callen gave a flat laugh. 'I wouldn't have done such a sloppy job of it. It turns out Trau was behind everything from the start and we've been following his plan almost to the letter. After I got out of the ambush at his manse I went to confront him at the castle and instead get blamed for the whole king-slayer business. I did tell you that job was a trap.'

Guilt washed over Torrens face. 'I should have trusted you.'

Callen waved away the apology. 'I've always made my own decisions and besides, this started long before I met you. Don't blame yourself for it. Besides, you did say getting out of this town would do me some good.'

'You're leaving?' The regret was clear in his friend's voice.

Callen shrugged. 'Don't have much of a choice with half the country after my head. From the looks of things I won't be back in town for a while either.' Callen paused for a moment, a smile finding its way back onto his face.

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