Promise of Lions by Håkon Ulvestad

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Even though she had expected it, the emblem on the blade of the dagger startled her. The lions head engraved in red with two sparkling blue gems for eyes. Even though shining in the light the blue gems had an inner darkness not visible to the eye.
The glow in his eyes.

* * *

As the wind carried away the last leaves of the lonely maple tree by the river, the woman drew her last breath. "Tell me where the boy is!" he screamed as he recklessly pulled her hair, thumping her head on the ground several times. He knew it was of no use, but he just could not let his anger go. The woman was dead, and he very well knew that death was final. As he got to his feet, he realized that the front of his tunic was full of blood from the dirty work he had just done. He carefully wiped his bloody dagger on the cloth that had been used to seal the basket. Then, as he looked in to her lifeless eyes, he realized what he had done. Without hesitating he had tortured the woman he loved to death. But there was no regret in his heart, only sorrow. It had to be done, he had to find the boy, but the woman wouldn't tell.
As he turned to leave her, he realized that he could not just leave her there to rot, so he carried her down to the river. He gave her a last kiss goodbye before he let her drift down the stream. His heart was aching for her, and he had to fight to keep the tears from his eyes. When she was out of sight, his anger had returned. He felt the fury burn like never before; the boy had cost his loved one her life, a deed that should be repaid in pure blood. The prophecies had told him that the boy had to live, but that did not necessarily mean in one piece.
As he was walking past the old maple tree, he saw that one little leave was still left hanging on the three. He picked it up and crushed it in his fist, just as he would the boy. When he opened his hand the wind picked up the small pieces. As he watched them float on the wind, out over the river, he heard the distinct ring of a sword being removed from its scabbard. He looked over his shoulder to see the eyes of a young man. "Hold still or I'll kill you!" he said. He was holding the sword in an awkward way, and the man could tell that he was not used to fighting with a blade. His knees were trembling and he could clearly see the fear in his eyes. The boy would have to be very brave; or he was just another mad drunkard coming to rob him. He didn't think that was the reason why the boy was here.
"I will not let you have my brother!" he yelled, "You would have to kill me first!"
"I might have to. I might have to..." the man answered as if considering whether or not he was to kill the boy. "I don't think you have the courage it takes to attack me. If you tell me where your brother is I might let you go home, I bet your wife is home worrying for you. Don't you think you owe her this much, a living husband. Don't do this to her just to fight a battle you can't win."
The young man shook with rage. "Don't you even dare suggest such a thing about me! I won't give you my brother. Never!"
"Then I suggest you get ready to die, for I have no time for fools like you."
As the boy charged him, the man's sword quickly came out of its scabbard without a sound. He casually deflected the amateurs strike and when the boy lost his balance he sidestepped and the tip of his sword took the boy between two ribs, death was instant. As the boy fell he retracted his sword and casually wiped it of on the boy's tunic before he slid it back into its scabbard. He had no time for this nonsense; he had to find another way to find the boy. It might take some time, but eventually he would have the boy. He was sure of that.