Child of the Daystar (The Wings of War)

Among the scattered fringe cities bordering the Cienbal desert, the true name of the Monster of Karth is spoken only in whispers... Raz i'Syul Arro. A sellsword of the utmost caliber, Raz is a killer of paramount skill and highest regard. Towering tall even amongst the atherian, he is the only of his kind to live free in the "civilized" confines of mankind's varied cultures. He has no need of loyalties, his sole affections pledged to the gold crowns that buy his time and skills. Wed to his blades, Raz's only friends are the Moon and Her Stars and the shadows they bring with the night. But Raz was not born to the mercenary's way, to the butchery and battle of day-by-day survival. Raz, like a sword, was hammered from steel and fire and ashy smoke, forged on the ruins of an old life. And Raz knows who he owes this new path to, this carved way of blood and iron. The Monster of Karth, after all, would never forget who gave him that name. And some debts can't be paid in gold...

   "Wake up," he growled, gripping the chin of the closest man and shaking him.
   The slaver came to at once and grunted as he tried to yell through the cloth gag in his mouth. The sound was pitifully muffled, and he struggled with the bindings on his wrists and ankles.
   "Shout all you want. No one can hear you through that," Raz spat, standing up.
   The man stilled and grew silent, eyes wide, taking in Raz's towering outline against the lantern light from the road.
   "If I'd wanted you dead, you'd be dead, so stop worrying. I have a message. On the other hand, if it's not delivered--well, your friends will be happy to explain the consequences to you."
   He gestured to the other figures laying in the dark past the bound man, who turned to look. His muted scream was oddly satisfying, and Raz smirked humorlessly. The slaver fell over in his haste to scoot away. Blood pooled on the cobbled stone, forming black puddles where each of the rest of the patrol had had their throats slit. Every horrified gaze was wide and staring, some fixed upon the night sky above, some on the walls around them.
   Raz had made sure each and every one knew they were going to die.
   "Are you listening?" he asked.
   The man nodded hurriedly, seeming unable to look away from the bodies of his comrades.
   "Good. Then tell your employers that Raz i'Syul is coming for them next. Tell them the Monster says they'd best start running, and that they'd best start running now."