How could he explain to Cade that he liked Sanctuary? There was something here, something that soothed and calmed the curse. He had only needed to kill twice since he came here. For two months he had lived with the slave girl and successfully hidden the truth from her. And both of the kills had been ones who deserved it ... Targ growled softly In his throat, remembering the screams and the blood. Murderers and rapists both, they had deserved it. They had.

He had heard there was a vampire here, Ischade. A vampire. In all the years he had been fighting the great war, never had he met a real vam- pire, or for that matter a real werewolf.

Cade watched the sun rise slowly, its light defining the harsh edge of Sanctuary. He reached back and slowly braided his long hair. It was an Ilsigi warbraid, something not seen in Sanctuary in a long time, some- thing Cade had to do. He was returning, but he wouldn't do it quietly, or simply. He was back and the braid was his way of making one thing clear: No one and nothing would make him bow. He was not the same boy who had run away so long ago; run with the blood of a merchant on his hands, blood he had never meant to shed. But one thing was still the same. He had left as a killer and he was returning as one.

He gently stroked his horse on the nose, smiling as it tried to take a nip at his new braid, then lifted himself smoothly into the saddle and took a moment to settle his weapons.

He was no warrior, not in the normal sense- He did not fight in great battles, riding for honor and glory. He'd just as soon use a knife or a garrote in the dark as swing a sword, but that didn't mean he wasn't a dangerous swordsman. Indeed, only the best could match him in bladework, and even fewer were as adept with no weapons at all.

He had always known he would come back, though until this moment he had denied it. He had taken the gifts of Sanctuary and now he would bring them back ...